The Path of Grace
by Eirenei
Summary: AU - first and foremost, Sena is a runner.
1. Chapter 1

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

_**Disclaimer:**_I don't own Eyeshield 21. I don't own the proverbs. I own only the evil plotline of the story.

_**Summary:**_ AU: First and foremost, Sena is a runner.

_**Warnings:**_ Nothing for now… maybe later.

* * *

_The Path of Grace is neither to the right nor to the left. It is neither liberal nor conservative. It favours neither the warmongers or the appeasers._

(BY Chuck Galozzi)

* * *

The steady beat of fast steps was echoing into the early morning. A shadow here and there, almost invisible among other shadows, was darting onward, chasing after its' owner relentlessly. Heavy panting was another sound that was heard in the tranquil morning, as the person, which was running exhaled and inhaled the cool night air.

The forest was quiet, filled with shadows and seemingly motionless; the only moving thing was the lonely runner. The wind was sparse there; the only stronger gust of air trailed behind the fast-footed youth who was exerting his body at such ungodly hour.

Muscles contracted and relaxed in familiar movements, sweat was cooling on the hot skin, already, the sleeveless shirt was soaked with the salty liquid. Feet pounded the ground rhythmically, while arms moved with the precision and grace only gained with the long-term repeats of the same movement, a thousand and more times over.

The small form raced upward on the hill, its tempo not slowing; only its breath was a little bit faster. The shorts were plastered against the muscled thighs, and the feet were ensconced in probably ancient running shoes.

Ancient - or well-loved – or at least well-abused running shoes. They were dirty, previously squeaky white and blue, they were now brown, and speckled with black spots. The socks were no better. Their previous colour was now unknown, if only for a fact they were hopelessly dirty.

He strained to come to the top, his mind cataloguing his surroundings automatically, while he jumped over the fallen log easily, before once again, launching into sprint. His brown eyes were intense, shining with somewhat mad light as he trudged forward, ignoring the aches and pains of his body.

And finally, he came to the top of the mountain.

And the dawn broke over the horizon.

* * *

He panted slightly as he stared at the beautiful sunrise. It was truly magnificent, and he would never tire of watching the nature's spectacle. The boy raised his arms above his head, stretching, and groaning in satisfaction as he heard and felt satisfying popping of his vertebrae.

He had spiky brown hair, which now hung a little limply around the flushed face, due to the sweat and dew it was soaked with. His skin was tanned, indicating that he spent long hours under the sun. He was clothed in black shorts and faded green and orange sleeveless shirt, both of which were soaked with his sweat.

Brown eyes widened, as he watched the sun breaking above the horizon.

"Wow, no matter how many times I see this, it's better than before..." A soft, boyish voice said in awe. He shook his limbs, as to prevent the uncomfortable cramps. He was slender, but slightly muscled too, built in a streamlined form, which indicated that he had endurance that most of his year mates could only dream about.

The boy's face fell, as he thought about the reason he had ran to the top of mountain.

"It's a pity _tou-san_ accepted that job in Japan." He muttered, biting his lower lip gently. "I won't be able to run with them anymore... and I was looking forward to running with buchou." He grumbled, pouting.

He sighed heavily. He was reluctant to part with this country that had such beautiful and challenging landscapes for him to run through.

His parents were overjoyed as his father received an offer to work in Japan, his homeland. He himself remembered the land of the rising sun only barely – something about sushi, bullies and running – and that was it.

But his parents were homesick – or at least traditionalistic enough to grab the chance and drag their unruly offspring kicking and screaming along with them.

* * *

His friends were not happy with him having to move away, but they promised to stay in touch. Buchou especially was disappointed, but it couldn't be helped. Although he did gift his own jersey, with number 21 printed on it, extracting a promise, when he would be old enough, he would return and attend their school. In return, buchou promised him he would finish that damned 24 WSER. His colleagues joked that it was impossible, teasing buchou that it was more likely to teach cheetah how to sing, than him to finish the race under 24 hours. Buchou grinned cheerfully, before he grabbed the idiotic offender and tossing him into the pool, right in the middle of the girls. Much shrieking and yelling ensued, and the poor fool had experienced the wrath of pissed off females.

He would miss his friends, he mused sadly. It just wouldn't be the same without them. Sure, they were a rowdy bunch, loud and rude, but they were good friends. They encouraged and supported him, although they also teased him like older brothers would be a younger one.

He sighed, watching the sunrise, with a stinging feeling in his heart. He would miss this.

But someday, somehow, he would return.

And one Kobayakawa Sena smiled tremulously into the brightening morning sky.


	2. Chapter 2

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

CHAPTER 2

_**Disclaimer:**_I don't own Eyeshield 21. I don't own the proverbs. I own only the evil plotline of the story.

_**Summary:**_ AU: First and foremost, Sena is a runner.

_**Warnings:**_ Nothing for now… oh, lookie, monkey torture. Because this is an AU it won't follow the strict timeline of the original ES 21 'verse.

* * *

_Act like a horse. Be dumb. Just run.  
_Jumbo Elliott

* * *

He sighed. And cringed. And cringed again. This match... it was a shame to call it that. But let's get back to the beginning, shall we?

/FLASHBACK/

He had entered Deimon High, fidgeting uncomfortably in the school uniform. It was a disconcerting notion, seeming so many people wearing one and the same outfit – girls their uniform, and boys their black trousers and a turquoise blazer with a black tie with thin turquoise stripes. It reminded Sena of those army recruits – that had to wear just the same outfits, the only thing that differentiated them were their faces, but in Japan, there were the same colours – black eyes, black or brown hair and so on. For him, who was used to the colourful themes of America, it was a torture to see such... monotony. Sena felt as if he could scream. He wanted back to USA, and that _badly._ Not to mention, he spoke English more fluently than Japanese – and it made him all the weirder, as he had that funny accent when he was speaking Japanese.

"001, 022 ... 023 – ah, I passed." He muttered to himself. _'As if there was any doubt'_, his sub consciousness snarked. He had expected that the entrance exams would be ridiculously heavy, but to his surprise, they weren't. They were more like... weird, as anything else. The brunette sighed. He heard the yelp of one unfortunate soul that was thrown into the air – and were those American Football jerseys? He blinked once again.

'_Wow... what a weird way of recruiting._ 'He thought idly. _'Mental note: do avoid the blond, he seems crazy.'_ Inwardly, he cringed at those wickedly sharp teeth. _'Yikes, that's one great admirer of sharks there.' _And he strode away, intent on getting an information pocket, the 'YA-HA!' still ringing in his ears.

His days were passing in relative peace – going to school, being in school, going home, running and so on. Once or twice he went to pachinko parlour, where he proceeded to kick butts of the black haired delinquent who then hounded him in school for rematch, but he successfully evaded him, and he still couldn't decide on which after-school club to attend. He was currently between the running club, and the tea ceremony one... and he had a teeny bit of interest in baseball club.

As for the American football one... he rejected it outright. The blond crazie he had seen recruiting was just too much for his tastes. He would like to keep his sanity, thank you very much.

Besides, he was a runner first.

/END FLASKBACK/

* * *

Still, his curiosity won over his logical side, and he went to see the match. The Deimon Devilbats were playing against... Koigahama Cupids, was it? Sena frowned. That name... Cupids, was utterly stupid. Although he didn't participate in football, that didn't mean he was ignorant of the sport's rules, and whatever respectable team would chose a name like Cupids? Pansies, the lot of them. But Sena could understand where it came from, looking at all the players from Cupids who were so very lovey-dovey with their better halves.

He watched, half-mortified and half-incredulous. Cupids were not very strong team, but Devilbats were absolutely shitty. "I'm feeling ashamed that I am even attending the school with them," he muttered to himself, loud enough that the blonde besides him heard it. The blonde was currently watching the happenings, ready to record it if needed be. "Oh? Which one?" He asked Sena.

Sena sighed. "Deimon." He grumbled out. The blonde nodded sympathetically. He winced as he saw the beast that was apparently the Deimon's captain's... acquaintance. "Yeah, I could see that. By the way, I am Sakuraba Haruto. "The blonde nodded, a small smile on his lips. "And he is Shin Seijuro." He introduced his quiet companion. Sena nodded. "Pleased to meet you. I am Sena Kobayakawa." He introduced himself. "Which school are you two from?" He asked, cringing minutely as he caught the sight of the blonde devil persuading the cheerleaders to cheer for his team. _'What a devil...'_

"We are from Oujou Gakuen," the blonde – Sakuraba – answered amiably. "Our coach sent us here to videotape the match. Well, he sent Shin, but with Shin's penchant for electronics..." He cringed, making Sena curious. "He doesn't know how to work with camera?" he asked. Sakuraba cringed even more. "It's not that – it's just – "He sighed. "He's too strong." Sena nodded. "Ah. He crushes the equipment, then?" he asked. "Wow... he sure is strong." Sakuraba nodded, defeated. "Yeah. " He muttered. "So I was sent in his stead, and he accompanied me. By the way, you have an accent..."

Sena nodded. "Yeah. I spent most of my life in America, and just recently, we moved back to Japan. "He smiled slightly at the flustered blonde. "I am still getting used to speaking Japanese," he chuckled sheepishly as his right hand rubbed the back of his head. "Wow," Sakuraba was impressed. "So, what was the life in America like?"

"Ah, nothing different," Sena laughed self-consciously. "It was mostly the same, though I do miss my friends... and I dislike wearing school uniform." He grimaced at the mention of that accursed piece of clothing. Sakuraba chuckled uncomfortably. "Ah, I see..."

* * *

Sena concentrated on watching the match. He cringed as the Cupids scored the first touchdown without problems. "It seems that coming to see them was a waste of time," he commented, sweatdropping at the PDA of the scoring player with his sweetheart. "The Devilbats will be ruined either way." "Hey, that wasn't nice," Sakuraba spoke up, offended. "But it is the truth, "Sena deadpanned. "The only worthy players here are the devil, the chubby and this runner. The linemen have absolutely no training, and there are no receivers – wait, "he corrected himself. "There is one, but he's worthless without a strong runner or two. And I suspect they don't have a kicker or middle man, either," he concluded. Two surprised sets of eyes looked at him. "How do you know that?" The blonde blurted out, astonishment clearly heard in his voice.

* * *

Shin was surprised at the assessment. It was fairly accurate. "Do you play football?" he asked. He looked at the Sena Kobayakawa. The boy was clad in his school uniform – turquoise blazer and black trousers, which were three sizes too big, his hair was brown and he had brown eyes. His body was small and slender, but the movements were precise and smooth. "Uh, what?" Sena – Kobayakawa, Shin corrected himself, sounded taken aback. His voice was slightly high, but not too much, and accented with the slightly harsh lilt, courtesy of speaking non-native tongue too much.

Kobayakawa moved slightly, but he was not uncomfortable. "No, I do not. I am more of a runner than anything else," Kobayakawa explained, with an easygoing chuckle that tickled Shin's stomach pleasantly. Of course, Shin being Shin, didn't understand. "So where do you run?" he asked instead.

Sena smiled, while Sakuraba watched the scene flabbergasted. "Everywhere I can. But I don't suppose we've met..." Sena trailed off. Shin nodded, utterly serious. "I suppose we haven't. Would you care to join me?"

Sena blinked. "Well, why not? Where would we meet? I admit, I am still unused to the layout of the town, so..." By this time, Sakuraba was ready to faint. Shin was voluntarily inviting someone to running! It was unheard of!

Shin nodded seriously. "We could meet in xxx park, if you would. I am usually running by it every day at 5 o'clock." Sena smiled. "Then it's a deal. I'll join you today, after the match, if that's alright with you."

Now, Sakuraba was truly convinced he had entered an alternate universe. To shake that kind of wrong feelings from his head, he concentrated on the filming of the match. And promptly winced.

"Ow... That doesn't look good..."

Deimon's running back had just sprained his ankle.

* * *

One Hiruma Youichi was pissed. This was not right. It was a failure of epic proportions. It didn't go well, but without their only runner, they were toasted. And besides... Pale green eyes spotted the two well-known figures_. 'Fucking Oujou. They just HAD to send them to watch us, didn't they?'_

Spindly fingers grabbed the jersey of the small player. "Oi, fucking monkey... I don't care how, but find the replacement runner _NOW_, or else..." He snarled out.

He shoved the shaking monkey, which Mukyaa-ed in protest, before stretching his lips in terrible grin.

'_If all else fails, bluff.'_

"Well, it isn't fucking over yet. He will help us..."

Hopeful, if a not a little bit terrified eyes looked up to him.

* * *

"Mukyaa! If I don't find one, I will be a dead meat!" the monkey, known as Raimon Tarou, also called Monta, cried out in panic. He had to duck away from the stampede of females, lead by one fair-haired boy who was followed by the dark-haired one. He looked at the cavalcade with a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Mukyaa... scary, MAX."

'_I'll show you what's scary...'_ his inner voice said to him. And then, in his inner theatre, he saw a pissed off blonde devil with a live ammo and bazooka marching against him, ready, willing and able to blast him from here to kingdom come.

He emitted an odd whimper, before he collided with someone.

"Oof - !"

"Hey, are you alright?" A kind voice asked him. Monta looked up, brown orbs collided with brown.

Deimon uniform – check. Male – check. _'Oh, what the heck - '_Monta grabbled the boy by his hand, and dragged him away, unmindful to the yelp of protest the said boy emitted.

"Hey, wha – "Sena yelped out as the monkey dragged him to the bushes.

"_Shhh!"_ The ferocious whisper stopped his protests. Sena 's mouth snapped shut. And then, the monkey immediately dropped into seiza, and began to kowtowing to him.

"Please! Please, _please, please,_ I know I'm not worthy, but save my soul!" The monkey-like boy whispered fiercely. "If you don't Hiruma will have me for _breakfast,_ mukya - !"

Sena blinked, flabbergasted. "Hiruma?" He parroted. To that, the monkey boy nodded ferociously. "Yeah! We need another player – a runner and if you could – "Big, puppy-dog eyes stared at Sena, silently begging him. Sena shuddered. "N – "

The monkey boy grabbed his hands "Please! I'll do anything, be your slave for a week – no, a _month _- give you baseball mitten by Honjou-sama - " his face screwed in painful grimace at the last offering " – but please, _please,_ save me!"

Sena blinked. "Okay – "

"You will?" the monkey boy jumped out. "Really? _Really_, really?" Hopeful eyes looked at him.

Sena nodded. For some reason, he could feel the approaching of the imminent doom.

Monta sprang up like a monkey, his hopes of getting away from the imminent doom revived.

"Cool! Let's go, MUKYA!"

* * *

With the corner of his eye, he saw the huffing and puffing monkey nodding and giving him thumbs up.

"... Our secret weapon...He is the Eyeshield 21, the one who had scored hundred touchdowns for Notre Dame University – "

A cloud of dust approached them, and then, it parted to reveal a slender boy, clad in white and red jersey with the number 23.

Hiruma's eyes narrowed, as his eyebrow twitched.

"... Fucking monkey, do you even know how to _count?"_

The spectators all heard a terrible, terrible sound.

"MUKYAAHHHAHAHA!"

A sound of a monkey dying.

* * *

Hiruma was tense. This was their last chance... and if fucking monkey hadn't fibbed out...

His teeth glinted in a shark grin as he perused the new player – quickly renamed Eyeshield 23.

The player was calmly waiting, and Hiruma had, for some odd reason, a complete faith in this oddball the damned monkey dragged into the fray. Maybe it was the player's calmness or his understanding of what Hiruma intended to do, but –

Hiruma felt the flow of game switching in his favour.

He snapped the ball to the number 23, and the magic began.

And then, the time slowed.

The number 23 received the ball, and Hiruma noticed with an inner jump of delight, that the ball was immediately tucked against the player's body, as it should be, and then, the player was off.

The blonde's lips widened into a terrifying grin as he watched the shrimp dart off, and he had to held back a gape at the effortless dodging around the opposite players –

_One scarecrow..._

_Two scarecrows..._

_Three... Four, five..._

_Six scarecrows, seven, eight – _

_Ninth, then the tenth – _

_Eleven!_

"TOUCHDOWN! _**YA-HA!"**_

The Deimon Devilbats had completely dominated the game.

* * *

Sadly, the fucking chibi managed to dodge him somehow, but no matter –

Hiruma smiled a devilish smile, full of sharp teeth, as he grabbed the fucking monkey by the collar and dragged it somewhere for interrroga – ahem, _questioning._

It was only a matter of time and this year, the Deimon Devilbats will definitely go to Christmas Bowl.

Now, to extract the information from the fucking monkey...

And for the second time, the spectators heard the shrill cry of the dying monkey.

They shuddered.

They really,_ really_ didn't want to know.

* * *

Sena came to the park, panting lightly. He had just enough of time to run back home to change his clothes and eat a light meal, before he headed to their meeting place.

He stopped, only to make some stretching exercises, his mind still on the match he had been coerced to play just half an hour before.

The match itself was pathetically easy, and the only danger Sena had been in, was that of a psychotic, rude, blonde-haired hell spawn that was captain of the American football club, finding out his name and recruiting him for his nefarious deeds.

He heard the hurried footsteps, and looked up from his stretching.

It was Shin Seijuro.

He smiled. "Hello, Shin-san."

Shin Seijuro was a man of few words. His characteristic was his sheer concentration on what needed to be done, and his almost unreal strength with electronic appliances. Oh, and let's not forget his inability of remembering a person by their face.

He had been scolded by his coach, and even worse – he had been prohibited to play in their next game – Oujou_ vs._ Deimon. And for some reason, he was disappointed. True, Deimon had a catastrophic line-up, but somehow, they had won over Koigahama Cupids, and rumours had it that they had unreal strong runner. He would like to match himself against that Eyeshield 23 person.

But for now... he would run with Kobayakawa Sena and –

He nodded at the greeting, watching that slender body sinuously straightening itself out – Kobayakawa was clothed in light gray baggy pants with worn out running shoes that were dirtier than any running shoes Shin had ever seen, and dark red hoodie.

No words were needed as they began to run. Together.

* * *

The only sound was their footsteps and breathing. Shin was surprised how easily his companion held the tempo with him. If it was Sakuraba, the blond receiver would be already half dead before the half of time. But not Kobayakawa. Even if he was smaller and not much to look at, the slender boy was running calmly, making Shin unnerved with the ease with which the boy moved. It was obvious that Kobayakawa was a regular runner, but Shin doubted that this was all his new running partner got. They were not running their full speed – if anything, Shin would estimate that currently, they ran at three fourths of Shin's speed, and Kobayakawa was still in control of his breath, which indicated he had to have plenty of stamina –probably even more than Shin. And that, in itself, was scary.

Slowly, they stopped at the vending machine.

Sena looked at Shin, who was panting, and sweating, but overall, he seemed alright. Inwardly, Sena was impressed – Shin had a decent speed and stamina, and the brunette boy wondered how the stoic linebacker would fare in the cross country run.

"Do you want a drink?" Sena asked Shin with a small smile on his face. Shin looked at him. "Yes. Water, please." He answered, still deep in thought about the mystery that was Kobayakawa Sena.

Sena nodded and inserted the coins into the slot. He pressed the button and frowned. "It's stuck." He announced, sighing. Shin blinked. "Let me try." He offered, his finger already moving toward stubborn button. Sena's eyes became wide as he remembered Sakuraba's warning." Shin-san, no – "

_KRRSSSHH – CLANG-CREAAAK_

And the vending machine let its' whimper and let out its' soul under the single finger of a determined, if not a little bit oblivious football player.

* * *

Sena sweatdropped at the smoking and crackling metallic box that was an unfortunate vending machine, and then, he eyed all the bottles that popped out of the said machine. "Well," he said dryly," we certainly won't be thirsty for a long, long time." He quickly picked up two bottles of water, and offered one to Shin, who was staring at the machine emotionlessly, if not a little bit puzzled at what had just happened. "Shall we go?"

Shin looked at Sena and the offered beverage and nodded, as he gratefully accepted. "Yes."

Their walk passed in a comfortable silence. "Which position are you playing?" Sena broke the quiet. "I play the linebacker," Shin answered shortly. Sena nodded, humming thoughtfully. "Do you double as a running back, too?" He asked.

Gray eyes widened. "Yes. How did you know that?" Shin asked. It was no secret, certainly not, but hearing that from someone who admitted that didn't play football was... disconcerting, really.

Sena shrugged. "Your speed. And it would be kind of a waste if you were deployed only in defence." Shin nodded. "Ah."

And that was the end of their little chat.

* * *

They jogged to the Oujou Gakuen dorms, where they parted.

"What the – _Shin?_" Called out a tall dark-haired man with glasses on his face. Shin turned to the man, nodding respectively. "Takami-senpai."

"So _that's _why you ran out of the clubroom so fast!" Another boy exclaimed boisterously, before he farted. He laughed a booming laugh at his conclusion, while Takami cringed slightly. "Don't mind Ootawara – he lacks a few screws in his head, so to speak." He spoke to the smaller teen embarrassedly. He breathed a relieved sigh, as the brunet nodded, an understanding smile on his lips. "It's okay, I know what you mean. I am Kobayakawa Sena, nice to meet you." The teen bowed slightly. Takami nodded. "Same here. But still, why did Shin hightail out of the clubroom-?"

At his inquiry, he saw a fetching blush on the slender boy's cheeks. "That would be my fault, Takami-san. You see, we've met at the match, and he offered to show me the best running tracks around here, so..." Sena fidgeted.

Takami gaped. "Shin?" He questioned. "Yes." Shin answered."It is as he said." Gray eyes watched the play of muscles of his baffled senpai "Oh, it's okay, then," Takami relented, sighing, "Just, before you go on such... expedition again, I would appreciate if you told me or Sakuraba. The coach was mad enough as it were." Shin nodded. "Aa."

Sena blinked. "I'm sorry if our agreement caused you trouble, Shin-san, Takami-san." He looked at the two addressed with contrition. Takami shrugged. "Ah, it was nothing much. Of course, it would be better, if we had the tapes from that Deimon-Koigahama match, but it can't be helped."

Sena blinked. "That match?" he asked, curious. "Why? It wasn't anything special, so – "

"Because we are Deimon's next opponents." Shin interjected calmly.

_'Oh, crap.'_

_

* * *

_

Sena returned home in a daze.

"Crap, crap, crap, crappity crap... someone up here hates me." He mumbled under his breath. A match against Oujou White Knights was a form of a suicide, if he ever saw one. Especially with such a failure of a team as the Deimon Devilbats. He absentmindedly toed off his running shoes and carried them on the balcony to dry them off. Any team that got _Shin_ on it was sure to be a one heck load of trouble on the field.

He sighed.

_He was __so __screwed._


	3. Chapter 3

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own the Eyeshield characters , but I own this story and a couple of bananas.

**_Shout out:_** _/wide eyes/_ Wow, you really surprised me with your comments. I didn't think that the story would be liked that much. Thank you, and onward to the reading.

**_Warnings: _**Some cursing.

* * *

CHAPTER 3

_"Some people don't have the guts for distance racing. The polite term for them is sprinters."_

_Anonymous_

_

* * *

_

Sena sighed. It was an unnerving experience, going to school, and listening about the Eyeshield 21 – excuse me, Eyeshield _23_, and avoiding the devils' menace, known also as Hiruma Youichi. He also managed to stay under the radar of certain monkey, who was also frantically searching for him, no doubt to save his skin.

* * *

As always, classes were boring; the education may seem harsh, but Sena had been through worse in America, just because he had a bunch of friends who thought it would be funny to have him learn alongside them, even if he was not in their grade. He chuckled at the memory of Aka-chan bashing Lupo's head into the desk, just because the silver-haired teen wanted to coop a feel, instead of learning a math formula. His friends were a rowdy bunch, and could be considered gangsters, but Sena didn't mind. They were just a little bit more... extravagant in their expressions. The only classes he had to remotely struggle, were History and Literature; History he didn't like, because it was too boring, and he had some troubles with Literature because he wasn't entirely fluent in kanji.

He headed to the running track to look at the club – he had already been in tea ceremony class, and it just wasn't his... cup of tea, so to speak. It seemed that life in America was a bad influence in this regard. Well, he still had the baseball club to look into, but what the hell...it wouldn't hurt to have more options, would it?

He watched the people, clad in white and black T-shirts and shorts. They all had running shoes, and Sena embarrassedly compared their pristine condition to his own much-abused pair he had at home.

"Oi, what are you doing here!" Someone called out, making Sena shake his head out of his thoughts. He blinked, as he looked at the tall, pony-tailed boy, who was striding toward him swiftly, dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

The Ponytail, as Sena decided to call him in his thoughts, was obviously a member of the club. He was, as girls would call him, a bishounen. Dark green eyes, long brown hair and a physique of a runner.

"I'm sorry, I came to see what your club like is," Sena smiled pleasantly. "I still haven't chosen a club, and I thought to look around, what I would like to..." He shrugged embarrassedly.

The Ponytail still glared at him. "I think you are a spy," he declared bluntly, moving closer to Sena.

Sena blinked, confused. "Me? A spy?" he repeated, not believing that he heard correctly. "Why would I be spying on you?" He was honestly baffled, and ... on the other thought, maybe joining the jogging club wasn't the best idea.

"Yes." Ponytail deadpanned. "I think you've came spying on me, because I am the Eyeshield – "He puffed his chest out proudly, before he was elbowed into ribs by skinny redheaded girl. "Ignore the doofus," She said dryly, blue eyes scanning Sena's body, making him feel as cattle about to be dissected. "By the way, I am Ayasegawa Miura, second year, and this scaredy-cat is Kazuhiko Ren, also second year." Hey! I am not a scaredy cat!" Ponytail, now known as Ren, objected, scowling at the skinny girl. The red head eyed him flatly. "Sure you aren't," She deadpanned.

Sena had to bit back a chuckle at their antics. "Pleased to meet, you; I am Kobayakawa Sena, first year," he bowed slightly. "By the way, I heard that Hiruma was searching for Eyeshield – "

At Sena's inquiry, Kazuhiko paled. "R – R – Really?" He stammered out weakly. "Then I – uh, I got to go training, yeah?" He nodded haughtily and headed to the running track.

Sena watched him go, amused. "That was mean," Miura said, chuckling. "But true," Sena countered back, an innocent smile on his lips. He slugged his backpack on his back. "So what can you tell me about this club?"

* * *

Miura proved herself to be a veritable goldmine of information, what with her being a secretary of the running club. Sena could honestly say that he enjoyed her company, what with her dry with and her not caring a whit about anyone else's opinions.

"So, where is your captain?" he asked. "Last I saw him was on that match – you know, American football, and I heard that he had sprained an ankle. Miura scowled. "Well, yeah...I still don't know just which bug bit him, to go off and compete in that terrible sport!" She bit out harshly, gray eyes flashing with ire. "And so near the running competition, too!" She growled. Sena blinked. "Er..."

"He's terrible person, to do that, and just... abandon us," She scowled. "Now, I have twice as much work – I have to do secretarial duties, along with being captain and oh, why am I telling you that!" She huffed, irritated, as she crossed her arms on her chest. Sena sighed. "It wasn't his fault, "He tried. "Someone had switched the cleats, and well..." He shrugged helplessly. "It could happen to the best of us."

She stared at the boy. He was small, slender and he just... radiated some kind of a ... thing that made her trust him instantly. No, well, not instantly, but she was more relaxed in his presence, as if she could tell him anything, and he would help. It didn't help that he was so mature, and just so... cute. Like a rumpled kitten or something.

Miura had to smile at her inner dialogue. "Well, I suppose you are right," she muttered, embarrassed. "But - well..." "- You are still overworked," Sena nodded understandingly. They stared at the running men.

"Do you want to try?" She asked. Sena blinked. "Um, what?" He replied gracelessly. "Running, silly!" She giggled at his baffled face, amused at his flushed face. Sena smiled an embarrassed grin. "Well... that's if you don't mind..." he trailed off, shyly.

She wanted to cuddle him. He was just so _cute!_

_

* * *

_

"Well, what are we waiting for?" She exclaimed, as she grabbed his hand, intent on dragging him off to the running track.

"So, what do I have to do?" he asked. Miura smiled. "It's a 100 metres' run, so... "She shrugged. Sena blinked. "And that's it?" He asked, baffled. Miura nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Usually, the newbies run the track for half an hour and the regulars run it for an hour. The regulars are those who receive the best time per the amount of laps they accomplish. For example, Ren is a regular, and he currently holds the record of accomplishing the most laps in one hour.

Sena's feelings swung between despair, amusement and horror. "Um... And how many laps is that?" He managed to get out. "Oh... I think its 65... And mine is currently 34." She puffed her chest proudly. "Today, I am going to beat my record!" She exclaimed proudly, an optimistic gleam in her eyes.

Sena sighed. "Well..." he said slowly. "Good for you Miura-san. But... don't you think this is... a little too easy? "Miura eyes him incredulously.

Sena decided to shut his mouth.

"Ready... Set... _Go!"_

Sena began to run – an easy pace, as he didn't want to be recruited by the hellish menace known as Hiruma, so he decided to be as ordinary running-wise as he could.

He finished the sprint – not first, but not the last, either.

He found it disappointingly easy.

* * *

Miura approached him with a smile on her face. "Well, you're qualified for the club; you just have to improve your speed."

Sena nodded, smiling. _'But it's too easy,'_ he wanted to say_. 'There's nothing that could challenge my limits...'_ Inwardly, he had to rebuke himself – of course, what he considered to be testing his limits would have any sane man – or runner – more than half-dead not even a tenth of time in the foray.

He sighed. "Thank you..." He murmured his eyes distant.

"Do you want to join?" She asked him. She liked this boy – he was polite, understanding and cute as a kitten, and she itched to ruffle his unruly mop of hair. _'Say yes. Say yes. Say yes...' she_ eyed him hopefully. "Umm... But what about Kazuhiko - ?" He hedged cautiously.

"Ignore the windbag," she waved his concerns off brashly. "If he causes you trouble, come to me, and I will deal with it." _'So please?' _She tried not to use puppy eyes. But it was so hard!

'_Well, I'll have to be careful, not showing off too much and all that... but I suppose it would be alright. And Miura-senpai is kind.' _ He thought silently. "Uh, yes?" he asked/stated tentatively.

She let out a deafening squeal and hugged the poor boy to her B-cup breasts, nearly choking him in the process. "Kya -! You made me so happy! From now on, call me Miu – neechan!"

He choked. "_A – Air,_ Miu-nee!" He yelped out, feeling his face slowly becoming blue with the lack of oxygen.

She yelped, and released him, blushing furiously. Sena had to laugh at her furious apologizing, and fussing over him.

It seemed that he finally got his first friend in Japan.

* * *

Green eyes narrowed as the tall boy looked the happy spectacle.

So the spy managed to foil the redheaded baka and infiltrate the club.

Well, Kazuhiko Ren was not a fool and he would definitely unmask the bastard.

He marched to the spy.

* * *

"Oi, newbie." He demanded. "Let's run."

Sena blinked at the Kazuhiko. "Um, yes?" He agreed. The ponytailed boy twitched. "Is that all you've got to say?" he demanded, irritated.

The brat looked at him guilelessly. "Well, a run is a run, right?" he queried, making some bystanders snicker.

Kazuhiko gritted his teeth. "No. I mean, run with me...and if you keep up, I will leave you alone. If you won't..." he smirked a cruel smile.

Miura's eyes became huge. "You can't do that!" she burst out. "He will drop with exhaustion – "

"Not. My. Problem." Kazuhiko grunted out.

You see, Kazuhiko was not an ordinary runner. While most of the club members were sprinters or middle-distance runners, Kazuhiko was aiming to be a long-distance one, to run marathons and the like. He was on a good way to his goal, and in club, he held the record for having the highest score of completed laps in one hour.

Sadly, he was very paranoid, and this little scrawny kid looked just like a person who would spy on him to get his magnificent techniques.

But the brat only sighed. "Well, if you want it to be like that..." He murmured daintily. "I suppose we'd better begin. I have places to be and people to see later, you know."

Kazuhiko nearly blew his top at the dismissive retort he had heard right there and then.

"You arrogant brat," He snarled out. "You'll be weeping for mercy soon enough."

And so, they found themselves on the track, Kazuhiko seething with anger, and Sena cool as cucumber, seemingly unconcerned with the impossible task before him.

And they were off.

* * *

Sena had a hard time to not let his mind drift away in his soldier-mindset, as he privately called it. He forced himself into being aware of his pace of running - not too near, and also not too far from Kazuhiko. He could go faster and all, but what was the point? He was trying to be inconspicuous, not to draw the attention... however he suspected it wasn't very successful. So he consciously forced himself to lag behind the ponytailed second year, along with beginning to pant harder, as to complete the illusion of becoming more and more exhausted by the minute.

Kazuhiko was panting, as he ran, determined to lose the fucking brat as far behind as he could. His lungs burned, his legs were beginning to protest fiercely, and his chest muscles were beginning to ache.

And the kick was, the brat doggedly followed him – not nearing him, not losing the pace, but followed him, and that unnerved Kazuhiko more than anything. He was used to be chased like so, but the pressure that boy was putting on him, was enormous. He gulped, as he felt his parched throat work uselessly as to swallow the bitter spit that was gathering in his mouth.

* * *

Suddenly, the mobile phone rang with its distinct melody.

Sena blinked. "Do you mind cutting this a little short?" He called to Kazuhiko. The ponytailed boy hesitated for a bit, and then nodded. "But it will be my win." He pointed out gruffly.

Sena sighed. Why, oh _why_ did he have to meet such a prick? "Okay." He agreed amiably.

He quickly jogged to his backpack, fishing out his phone.

"Yes?" He asked.

"_Sena-kun, Shin is asking that you come to the front of Oujou dormitory at your appointed time, if you will."_ Takami's kind voice rang out of the earpiece.

Sena blinked, startled. "Um, yes - is something wrong?" He asked cautiously. He was slightly reassured by Takami's small chuckle. _"No, not at all; apparently he wants to show you some other running trails..."_

Sena smiled. "That would be great!" he exclaimed. "I will be here in..." he looked at the wristwatch "Half an hour at most. Please don't hold it against me, if I would be a little later..." _"Oh, we won't,"_ Takami reassured him, an unseen smile on his face. _"So, see you soon, ne?"_ Sena chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks, Takami-san. Greet Sakuraba for me, will you?"

"_Will do. Goodbye."_

"_Adios."_

Sena closed the phone, a small smile on his face.

"Ne, ne? Who was he?" Miura bounced to him, a curious smile on her face.

Sena smiled at her curiosity. "Oh, my running buddy and some acquaintances I made yesterday," He explained swiftly. "If you excuse me, I got to go; else I will be late for our meeting."

Miura pouted. "Awe, not fair. So, will you become a member?" She perked up instantly.

Sena chuckled. "I'm afraid I will have to honour my agreement with Kazuhiko –san here." He smiled his eyes in a happy upside-down crescent, making Miura itch to cuddle him. "Besides, I've just agreed to let him win, so I could answer the call."

He bent to retrieve his backpack. "It was fun, though. Thanks for your kindness."

"B – But why?" Miura stuttered. "You are an awesome runner, and you could improve so much more - !"

Sena sighed. "I'm just not a sprinter type, sorry." He smiled apologetically. "It was fun working with you, though." He bowed.

"_Sayonara, minna-san."_

He turned to run –

"Wait!" Miura called after him. Sena halted. "Yes, Miura-san?" He asked. Miura smiled. "I hope you will find something, kid. And visit me sometime, will ya?" She asked, smiling. "I could use a running partner, if you would."

Sena laughed out loud. "Of course, Miu-nee." He grinned. "Where do you live?"

Miura smiled, oblivious to Kazushiko's outrage. "It's Nanashiki district, block F4. I'm usually here for weekends and at evenings, if it's school."

She watched her newest cuddle-toy nod softly, delighted with the positive response.

"Okay, Miu-nee. See you sometime." And then, Sena turned around, and began to run away.

"Wha – _Who was that?"_ Their captain's breathy voice scared the bejesus out of them. Miura jumped up, a small scream on her lips. Kazuhiko was even less dignified in his response.

"Ishimaru – buchou! Don't scare me like that!" She scolded the captain, scowling slightly. But the captain's eyes were glued to the rapidly vanishing silhouette of the runner.

"_Who_ was that?" He asked once again, gray eyes fierce. "He's an excellent runner – why isn't he in our club?"

Miura winced. Kazuhiko growled. "Um... he lost a bet with Kazuhiko here," Miura told Ishimaru meekly.

Ishimaru twitched. "Kazuhiko..." He growled, making the ponytailed boy shudder. "How many times I've told you not to bet with the potential newcomers! Do we at least know what his name is?"

"But buchou – "Kazuhiko tried to interject. Ishimaru rounded on him, eyes blazing. "_I-Don't – Care_." He growled out. "What I _care_ about, is the fact that you ran off one of the most promising runners right _here_ and right _now_, and he's on the loose and up for grabs for _any_ sports' teams around here!" he finished off his tirade with a small crack.

* * *

The people edged away from the furious captain. Even Miura, who was usually the bravest, was inching away from him. _"He. Is. A. Runner._ And from what I've seen, a _damned_ good one, at that. You've officially ruined our chances for successful competition against Ryokushou, congratulations, " His words practically dripped with venom.

Kazuhiko was flinching. "But why? Bastard even lost against me – "He managed to whine out petulantly.

Ishimaru snorted. "You idiot. He _agreed_ to lose. You haven't done anything to win here. For all I care, you two were tied. "

"B – But Kazuhiko was ahead of the shrimp!" Some spectator piped up.

Ishimaru sighed. "Did he lag behind?" He asked.

Silence.

Ishimaru shook his head. "Then there you go. Now, find him and get him here!"

A shadow silently walked away, a sharp grin glinting in the dark.

He had an interesting bit of news to share. Oh _yes_, he had.


	4. Chapter 4

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the Eyeshield 21, nor the characters. I'm only playing with 'em

_**Warnings:**_ Some cursing, attempted rape and monkey wisdom (Or stupidity, in that case).

* * *

CHAPTER 4

_The only tactics I admire are do-or-die  
_-Herb Elliott

* * *

Sena had fallen into a comfortable routine – well, as comfortable as one could, what with Hiruma tailing him – or trying to, anyway, and the running club members' attempts to get him to join them. And let's not forget that monkey – oops, sorry, I mean Monta. Apparently, Sena was in the same class as Monta, and Sena nearly had a heart attack when he noticed the former baseball nut. Fortunately, the monkey seemed to have a really short term memory, so that he didn't recognize Sena.

_'Thank God for small mercies_,' Sena sighed, relieved.

"Are those bananas?" He heard the voice behind him. It was a lunch, and Sena wanted to have some peace to finish his snack – bananas and some home – mixed PowerAde drink. Sena's diet would make any doctor faint with the amount of calories consumed, and it was a wonder that such a small and seemingly skinny boy could polish the food weighing almost half his weight through the day.

"Um, yes?" he ventured carefully, not daring to look back.

"Mukya! Lucky, MAX! Cool, can I have one? Or two? Please?" The monkey - Monta – vaulted in front of the baffled Sena, puppy eyes in full effect. Sena sighed. "Yeah. " He offered the two pieces of fruit to the salivating monkey.

"Thanks!" Monta said, a big grin on his face, before he was immersed in his snack. Sena sighed. "No problem." He offered dryly. "And you are?" he ventured, thinking it would be safe to play an ignorant person than revealing he already knew the monkey.

"_Munch _– I am Raimon Tarou, call me– _Munch _– Monta!" The monkey said, among the snacking. Sena nodded, as he drank his homemade PowerAde. _"Mmh."_ He grunted. _'This stuff is good,' _he thought idly. _'Needs a bit more wasabi, though.' _ He sighed as he paused in his drinking. "I am Sena Kobayakawa. Nice knowing you." He smiled at the monkey boy. "Hey, aren't you in my class?" Monta asked curiously, his mouth still full of banana. Cringing inwardly, Sena nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. " He shrugged noncommittally. "What of it?"

Monta flushed. "Um, well – "He floundered. "I didn't see you joining any of the clubs, so – "

'_Oh, crap.'_ Sena tensed slightly. _'Is he onto me?' _"And?" he asked, taking a bite of his banana. "Well..." Monta deliberated. "Why don't you join us?" He asked, twiddling with the banana peel.

Sena blinked. "Join you?" he echoed. "Um... why?"

Monta shrugged. "We need more members, and since we couldn't find that Eyeshield guy – "He gulped a bite down. "Got any more bananas?"

Sena blinked, taken aback at the sudden turn of conversation. "Yup.'' He replied.

"Can I have one?" Monkey puppy dog eyes were in effect... again.

Sena sighed. "You do realize that's my lunch?" He asked. "Yup." Monta agreed. "But you could never have too much bananas. C'mon, share the wealth, MAX!"

"Uh – huh." Sena shrugged. "One more and that's it. I am hungry, too," he pointed out.

The monkey darted forward, snagging the bunch. "Hey!" Sena yelped. Monta shrugged. "Snatchers' keepers, losers' weepers," He retorted, grinning cheekily.

Sena growled. Then, he smiled. "Okay. Would you like to try my drink, too?"

The angelic expression on his face should have alarmed the monkey – uh, Monta - that something was afoot. But, because he's a monkey, Monta didn't suspect any foul play. He should have...

... especially when he's training with Hiruma.

"Hey, thanks! I really am thirsty, MAX!" Monta grabbed the offered bottle joyously and made a long, hard gulp.

Sena grinned.

'_Three, two, one...' _he silently counted.

_"EYAAAGHHHH!_" The cry of the dying monkey was heard miles wide.

* * *

Hiruma's ears twitched, interested. "Hoo?" He inquired mildly. "The fucking monkey is dying again. Wonder what caused it, though," White, pointy teeth widened in a terrible smile. "This bodes investigating."

He cackled cheerfully, thinking about the miserable fucker – oops, kindred spirit that managed to torture the annoying monkey.

* * *

"You alright, Monta?" Sena asked the monkey, concerned. Inside his mind, he let out a small, sadistic chuckle.

"Sadistic, MAX!" The monkey managed to get out. Sena smiled a sweet little smile at the comment. "Would you like to have some water?" He asked, brown eyes big and innocent and concerned, as if he just hadn't almost poisoned his fellow year mate with one of his... _special_ concoctions.

Monta eyed the offered bottle with horror. "Uh, I – I think I'll pass." He stammered out, inching away from the devil that was Kobayakawa Sena. His eyes bugged out as he saw Sena nonchalantly take the bottle, and drink the foul concoction as if it was lemonade, and not some sadistic remix of citric acid and wasabi pieces. "Hey, wait - ! Monta tried to stop, what he thought it would unquestionably end in a gastritic disaster of epic proportions.

Sena sighed contentedly, as he finished the bottle. "Ahh, that was delicious. Don't you think so, Monta?" He asked the rapidly paling monkey.

"Uh – um – "Monta really didn't want to say the truth and offend his new friend. "It's a bit... spicy. Yeah, that's it!" he nodded furiously as to show the sincerity of his statement. Sena blinked. "Really? I still think I added too little of wasabi – "

"_NO!"_ Monta interrupted him, his face now pasty white. "It has enough of wasabi, thank you very much – _URK!_" His face rapidly switched the colours to green and red mixed in.

His vision swam. His stomach protested loudly, and his tongue felt as if it just died. He made an odd whine, as he toppled off his chair, as he felt the hot, acidic contents gurgle in his bowels.

Obviously, bananas didn't agree with the hellish drink he had just consumed a moment before, and idly, he wondered just how Sena managed to still be up and not on the verge of a painful, fiery death.

"_Mukyaaaa..."_ A painful whine escaped his throat.

Sena blinked. He prodded the fallen monkey with his foot. "Oi, get up," He demanded.

The monkey didn't move.

Sena sighed. "Was it too much...?" He muttered to himself. Then, he remembered the monkey stealing _HIS _bananas, and huffed. "Nah, it wasn't." He threw the remains of his lunch in the trash bin.

Halting for a moment, he contemplated leaving the monkey to his demise right then and there. But his damned conscience demanded he be courteous and get him at least some help.

Groaning, Sena hauled Monta on his back and proceeded to walk to the infirmary.

"How troublesome," he muttered out.

* * *

Slowly, he regained the consciousness. He was so sleepy, and worn out, as if he participated in a marathon session of Hiruma's hellish training.

He made a weird noise, as he tried to move.

"Don't move, young man!" The nurse reprimanded him. "You're lucky that this kind young man carried you there, otherwise – Oh!" She squeaked, taken aback at the monkey's sudden movement.

Monta sat upright, his spine ramrod straight. "Where is the sadistic bastard?" He demanded, his eyes alight with murderous fire.

He was a sight for sore eyes. Pale, clammy skin, big black eyebags, and cheeks hollowed out, as if he had spent days in the concentration camp. His caterpillar eyebrows didn't help the image.

"Where is he!" Monta demanded, trying to stand up, but to no avail.

"Keke. I sincerely hope you don't mean my person," the voice came, making Monta pale rapidly, and slump back into the bed.

Monta shivered at the sight of that demonic bastard leaning against the door, clocking his beloved AK-47 placed against his left shoulder nonchalantly and popping the balloon as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Hi – Hiruma!" He squeaked out weakly.

The blonde nodded. "So you've pissed the fucking chibi and landed in the infirmary," The devilish grin was full of satisfaction.

Monta gawped. "I – I didn't!" He protested. "I just- drank that drink of his – "He shuddered. "Agony MAX!" Blonde eyebrows rose at the description. "Ha? So you were _THAT_ dumb?" Hiruma needled further.

Monta scowled. "I would like _YOU_ to drink that hellish water, and remain standing!" He retorted peevishly.

The air stilled.

"Are you challenging, me, punk?" Hiruma asked slowly, his grin widening to terrible proportions.

Monta gulped.

'_Aw, man.'_

He was so doomed.

* * *

Sena hummed as he was heading home. The schoolwork was easily done, and he was looking forward to getting home, changing into his jogging clothes and unwind some of tension with running.

The monkey was safely in infirmary, he managed to evade the running club members, and the day was just too good to waste with remaining inside of the house. Sadly, Shin was having a training match, so he was unable to come, but oh well. It happens.

He was running with a light pace, when he heard the noise.

* * *

Someone was shuffling, and it was coming from one of the darker and more dangerous alleys.

"-elp!"

"Awe, don't you like us helping you, pretty?" A male voice leered.

"C'mon, you can at least thank us – "the second male voice egged on.

"No! You _can't!_ Help!" The girl's voice carried the panicky undertone.

Sena stiffened.

"Ow! You little bitch!" One of the thugs snarled.

_SLAP!_

A small pained cry escaped the girl.

"You'll pay for that!" the skinnier of the thugs snarled out cruelly.

Sena turned around and sped to the voices.

The thugs didn't know what hit them. One minute, they were having fun with that pretty half-foreign girl, and the next thing they were unconscious.

The girl collapsed on the dirty pavement, sobbing slightly and clutching her ruined shirt against her body, trying in vain to cover her chest. Her shoulder length, straight deep orange hair is mussed, and her blue eyes are filled with tears.

It had been so, so close...

A minute further, and she could be raped –

"Are you alright?" she heard a concerned voice. She flinched, trying to shrink into herself, but to her surprise, the person just sighed, and a turquoise jacket was placed on her shoulders. _'Deimon?' _She mused dazedly.

Finally, she gathered enough courage to see her saviour. The sun was setting behind him, presenting her only with a silhouette of a teen – a boy, judging by the jacket, he was slender and a little on the smaller side, but that shape of hair was unmistakable.

She found herself gaping. Finally, she whispered out the name -

"_Sena?"_

_

* * *

_

Brown eyes blinked with confusion, as he looked at the stunned girl.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The girl's eyes were hurt and bewildered, and Sena wondered why. There was a tense silence between the two of them, making Sena wonder just what had he done now.

"Can you stand?" he asked her gently. "Let's get you home – "

"You're Sena! Kobayakawa Sena!" She insisted her eyes still wide and hurt.

Sena paused. "I am... but who are you?"

The girl gaped. "Sena! Don't you remember? I'm Anezaki Mamori! Mamo-nee!" She exclaimed, frustrated. Absentmindedly, she put on Sena's jacket, silently thanking all the deities it fit her.

She eyed the boy, cataloguing all the changes.

The cry-baby boy who called her Mamo-nee had grown up...Sena was taller and more reassured, but his eyes were...blank. There was no recognition in them, just a curiosity, and for some reason, that gnawed at Mamori something terrible.

"You... don't remember? " She asked softly.

Caramel brown eyes blinked. "Remember what, Anezaki-san?" She flinched at being called so formally, and by her unofficial otouto, no less.

She sighed. "You really don't," she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible.

Inside, she was numb.

'_Just what had happened to you, Sena?'_

_

* * *

_

Sena escorted her to his home, as Mamori told him that her parents were out at some celebration.

"I'm home!" Sena called out, one arm embracing the shivering girl gently. He had to support her the whole way; it seemed that the shock of being attacked and meeting Sena were finally getting to normally tough-minded girl.

"Hello, Sena – Oh my, what happened?" Mihae gasped, as she seen the almost catatonic girl clinging to Sena.

Sena sighed. "Some thugs attacked her, mom. I knocked the thugs out and led her here, because for some reason, she seems to know me. "

Mihae's eyebrows furrowed. "Know you?" She questioned softly. "What's her name?" She already led the girl into their living room.

"She says she's Anezaki Mamori."

Mihae blinked.

"Oh, dear..."

* * *

Mihae wasn't surprised often, but this was indeed a surprise. The girl was indeed Mamori-chan – the dear girl surely had grown up into a proper young lady, and it was just a sad sigh, to see her so lost and confused looking, curled under a warm blanked on a comfortable brown and black-chequered couch.

"Sena, be a dear and go make a hot chocolate," she said to her son gently. "The poor dear looks as if she needs it."

Nodding quietly, Sena vanished into kitchen, as Mihae looked at the curled-up girl.

"Mamori-chan?" She gently asked. The girl blinked. "Kobayakawa-san..." she trailed off, her voice soft. "What's wrong with Sena-kun? He didn't recognise me..."

Mihae winced at the girl's lost voice. She sighed. "First things first, Mamori-chan. How are you feeling?" She said gently.

Mamori shuddered. "I – I'm alright, I suppose. I'm not – not yet, but I will be. "She inhaled a shaky sigh. "I don't know what I would do, if Sena-kun hadn't been here..." Her voice whispered out.

"I know, "Mihae agreed calmly. "He's rather dear boy, isn't he?" She smiled a small smile at Mamori's pink cheeks. "Auntie Mihae!" Mamori squeaked, indignantly.

Mihae chuckled.

Mamori eyed the living room. It was done in tasteful colours – gentle vanilla yellow of the walls was contrasting with the light brown and mahogany colours of the furniture. Here and there were the random knick-knacks – photos, hand-made crafts, and on the shells, there were books and a couple of small figurines. There was a seashell or two, too, along with a moderately-sized LED television. The wooden floor was covered with an oriental carpet in dark red and brown with small white and blue flowers, and there was a small plush-covered taburet in the corner, along with a stand for the newspapers and wine bottles.

On the wall, there was a portrait of seaside and landscape, with a lone yacht swaying on the waves in the evening breeze. The entire room exuded homey, warm and inviting feeling that further relaxed the shaken girl.

"I didn't know you came back, Kobayakawa-san, "She said. Mihae laughed. "Call me Auntie Mi, dear girl; I've known you since you were in diapers!" Mamori blushed at that, but quietly nodded her assent. "O – Okay, Auntie Mi.

Sena quietly returned, carrying a plate with two cappuccino cups, filled with hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, along with a small helping of creampuffs on the middle-sized dish.

"Here, Mum. I'll go for a run, if you don't mind." He said quietly. Mihae smiled. "Okay. Don't stay out too long, you hear me?"

Sena chuckled. "I won't... probably. You know how I get."

Mihae groaned. "Yes, I do, silly. But that still doesn't change the fact I worry over you!" She volleyed back, making her son chuckle.

_"Mom!" _he half-complained, half-joked. "Anyway, I'll have my cell phone with me, so see you."

And he was off.

Mamori watched the entire scene quietly. Sena had indeed changed. He wasn't clingy, he was more self-assured and ... something more.

But what?

They listened to Sena's thundering downstairs, and then, the boy was off.

"Auntie Mi?" Mamori finally couldn't help herself. "What's wrong with Sena? Why doesn't he remember?"

Mihae became serious. "It's a long story, my dear. " She replied, her eyes sad.

"But what – what happened?" Mamori's heart clenched in worry for her childhood friend.

"Sena doesn't remember... You see, he lost his memories."

* * *

Mamori sat on the couch, frozen. "So let me get this straight," She said slowly. "Sena was in a car accident – some driver bumped in him, and Sena was in hospital for six months in coma. When he woke up, he was alright – but he couldn't remember his – "

"-childhood, yes," Mihae nodded sadly. "The doctors said that it was only a temporary trauma that would be overcome by time but I fear it's rather permanent, if his reaction to you is anything to go by. "

Mamori was still. "How?" She choked out. "Sena was such a sweet boy, and now, he doesn't even remember me!"

The stinging feeling in her eyes became too strong, and once again, she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mamori-chan," Mihae said remorsefully. "If I could change it, I would but –"

"I understand." Mamori nodded. Her cheeks were still stained with tears, but her eyes shone with a new light. "Sena – kun is a new person. Then all I have to do is to get to know the new person Sena-kun has become. It wouldn't be the same, but as long as it's Sena-kun, I don't mind."

Mihae smiled with relief. "Thank you, Mamori-chan." She was happy for both of them – for Mamori, and most of all, for her little Sena.

It won't be like it had been in those good old times, but they could try, and make new memories and new bonds.

"Can you tell me anything about Sena?" Mamori asked hopefully, making Mihae laugh with delight.

* * *

Sena sighed quietly, as he ran along the riverside. That track was quickly becoming his favourite, although he had to temper his speed, so that he wouldn't be chased by any overly zealous sports maniacs. Hey, it could happen.

The sun was setting slowly, colouring the sky with red, golden and purple shades. Sena inhaled the air softly, feeling the coolness and slightly smoky tang on his tongue. Yes, the fall would be coming soon, and with it, a morning cold. But not right now.

Sena smiled, as he thought of his American friends, wondering what buchou was up to, and how the troublesome duo was doing academically. He sulked for a bit when he thought of all the fun they were having right now, without him. Sure, the online chats were good, but it just wasn't right, not being able to see them in person.

He pouted. It just wasn't fair!

In his musings, he disregarded the dark shadow following his movements.

It would be better, had he been more aware, but –

Suddenly, he stiffened, as he heard the unmistakable growl of a hungry dog. A_ very_ hungry dog, at that.

His eyes widened.

The dog was... _familiar._

It was the crazy blonde's butt-buddy of a dog!

The dog sprang.

"Yikes!" Sena yelped, as he dodged the beast.

The dog seemed to have an ecstatic bloodthirsty grin painted on his muzzle – and it reminded Sena unpleasantly of the same expression on the face of dog's owner.

"Dogs and owners really are truly pretty much alike," He managed to muse, while the dog chased his across the bridge and straight over the park.

"So troublesome..." Sena groaned.

And the dog was too damn clever for his own good... or at least Sena's good.

The dog corralled him into the tall, a little bit decrepit building, and then, chased him into the room, with a number 666 on the door.

Sena screeched to a stop, barely managing not to slide over the polished floor.

"Well, well, well..." The silky voice spoke out.

This time, Sena winced for real.

A terrifying shark grin stretched the lips of the dog's owner. "What do we have here, hmmm?"

Sena sighed.

'_Fate, you bitch, I hate you.'_

Who else could catch him so underhandedly, but one Hiruma Youichi, aka. Bane of Sena's existence?

A gun clicked ominously.


	5. Chapter 5

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Eyeshield 21's characters. I own only the story, the plot and the OOC quirks of the characters, and mayhem they cause.

_**Shout Out:**_ Well, people, a new chapter coming up! This is for those who were kind enough to review, you know who you are. You made my day, thanks. (Especially after that math test _/groans_/). This is the chapter that concludes the Oujou arc, so don't expect any new updates from that front too soon

_**Warnings:**_ The story is not strictly canon, so if you are a die-hard fan of the manga... _/Shrugs/._ Rated for Hiruma's mouth, disturbing scenes with food, and Ootawara's stupidity.

* * *

CHAPTER 5

_It is a rough road that leads to the heights of greatness.  
-_Seneca

* * *

A week later, the day of the match was finally. Here. Oujou White Knights, one of the best, if not THE best teams in Kantou region, against the predestined losers, Deimon Devilbats.

The bets were firm – anyone worth their salt betted on Oujou – that was understandable, as Deimon was unofficially official the loser among the low-ranking teams. Even Koigahama Cupids were better than Devilbats, and _THAT_ told enough.

However, this year a turnaround happened. Nothing monumental – it was just, the Devilbats had won over Cupids, not that it had been hard to do.

It was all the fault of one person, nicknamed Eyeshield 23.

It was said that the kid was fast, very, very fast – but that were rumours. Anyone who asked the Cupids would get an answer that the kid was faster than anything they had seen playing against them, but that wasn't much comparison. The Cupids were, after all, still a low-ranking team.

And after all, most of the people there had gathered to see the play of one Sakuraba Haruto – let's disregard that most of those people were fan girls, yeah – and only the hardcore football fanatics expected one Shin Seijuro stepping on the field and demolish the opposition with his fearsome _Spear Tackle._

The White Knights arrived at the playing field in an orderly manner – with their bus, a cluster of helpers and calm as cucumbers.

Diametrically opposite, the Deimon Devilbats arrived in two rickety old carts that were pulled by Hiruma's terrified slaves that were prettied up with doggy biscuits and chased by yours truly, Kerberos. The public sweatdropped.

* * *

"Are they for real?" the cameraman asked incredulously. Luckily, he was far enough from the fearsome blonde kid who had the AK-47 in his hands.

The Deimon players staggered out of the carts, and people strived to find the mysterious speedy kid.

"Tch. It's a waste of our damned time." The dread-haired boy complained, idly scratching his belly. "And there's no cute chicks – "He winced at the particularly loud screech of "SAKURABA-KUN!" from some overzealous fan girls. "Agon!" The bald-headed boy reprimanded him sternly.

Agon blinked. "Deny it all you want, Unko-chan, but deep, deep down, you agree with me." He grinned at his brother; and not very nicely. "And I bet that Eyeshield kid is just some trash – "He lazily looked through his binoculars at the field. "... However, there are some redeeming points for this shitty excurse."

Unsui blinked. He looked at Agon's subject, and flushed. "Agon, you are incorrigible!" he growled, swiping the binoculars from his twin. Or at least, he tried to.

Agon was too damned fast.

"She has good legs," Agon muttered, obviously distracted. On the Deimon side, there was sitting a pretty girl with shoulder-length auburn – colored straight hair and kind blue eyes.

She was a cutie, and Agon fully intended to ... invite her.

She was looking a little lost, which was all the better. Agon smirked.

But then, there was a spiky-haired trash that approached her. At the sight of him, the girl's face beamed with smile, which twisted Agon's guts just a little bit. The guy conversed with the girl, making her smile a little.

"Che." Agon grumbled. Well, it didn't matter. The chick would be his, one way or another.

* * *

The Deimon Devilbats watched the White Knights eating their packed bento wistfully, and not with a small amount of jealously. "Ahhh, I suddenly feel hungry too after seeing them eat," The flunky number one complained absentmindedly, wiping a drool from his chin.

Sena sighed. Those guys were weird. Luckily, he had pre-packed his own meal after he had helped with the food for the flunkies.

"If you don't mind... would you like to eat this?" Mamori asked a shy smile on her lips. The flunkies eyed her adoringly, making her shy behind Sena's back.

Sena smiled. "Thank you, Mamori." Mamori smiled at him sweetly. "Sena, I have your lunch right – there-"She groped for the box, but it vanished. Panicking, she turned around.

"Where's the box?" She asked. The answer was a loud munching under the bench. "Ah, no! Kerberos got it!" She wailed with despair.

Sena sighed. "I don't mind, Mamori. In fact, I have my own lunch... because I thought that something like that would happen. Thank you anyway." He smiled at the girl gently.

And then, he opened the big box he had carried around.

The team's eyes bugged out.

"_EEHHH? " _

"D – Do you really – I mean, will you eat all that?" Monta asked, his words stumbling through his mouth.

The team simply drooled. There were two cakes, one big pizza, six oranges and four extra large smoothies... and a bunch of bananas.

Sena blinked. "Well, yes. Why?" he asked plaintively.

Even Hiruma had no answer on that one.

* * *

The team mutely began to eat their meagre bento, while the Knights were enjoying their... royal portions, and Sena was gobbling up his fair share of... _snacks._

The White Knights were enjoying their meal. Or better, let's focus on Ootawara, who was right now munching on Shin's portion.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry, "Shin declined his portion. "I have already performed my daily intake of nutrients." Ootawara beamed. "Bahahaha, that's so like Shin!" He grinned stupidly, before snatching the linebacker's portion. Inadvertedly, his eyes roamed toward the Deimon's' bench, and he blinked. "Though I wouldn't mind a cake or two," he remarked offhandedly.

The Knights' heads automatically swivelled in the direction of Ootawara's longing stare. "Is he for real?" Takami managed to choke out, as he watched the tiny secretary of Devilbats consuming a triple layered cheesecake as if it were an orange. They watched, incredulous, as the kid finished the cake and got a pizza out of the box and began to munch on it contentedly.

Shin's eyes widened. The sheer number of calories and carbohydrates in that thing was suicidal! And then, the kid polished it with an extra large smoothie, before finally – finally! – munching on an orange.

"His digestive tract must be wrought from iron to bear through all of that..." Sakuraba said in a hushed tone.

Mutely, they nodded. Suddenly, their own food lost its' appeal by a large margin.

* * *

"Hey, that tastes good!" Kurita announced cheerfully, as he bit in his own bento. The flunkies agreed. "Mukya! You are the best, Mamori-chan!" One particular monkey was especially loud.

Monta was relegated on the bench, because Sena's special concoction had been a killer on his stomach lining, and he would have to sit out this match. By all means, he should've been sad, but with Mamori here, he was just content to watch his love interest and maybe later, he would try to hold her hand, when that dastardly Eyeshield got to work. Mournfully, he looked at the bunch of bananas in Sena's box, but he decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Who knows, the bastard could lace his beloved fruits with wasabi or something equally terrible.

Monta shivered. Once was enough, thank you very much!

Then, the word came to the players. And inenvitably, one Shin Seijuro was mentioned.

"Ehh? Are you _serious?_ We're going against _that_ Shin Seijuro?" One of the flunkies whimpered, his face paling, along with the other's audibly gulping down their suddenly hammering hearts. "But-! Didn't he break someone's ribs in last year's practice match?" Flunky number two just _had _to add that little tidbit, didn't he?

Monta paled. "I am _so_ lucky to sit out that match..." he mumbled out. He really didn't wish to be skewered on that _Spear_ thing. True, he wanted to be a hero, but pain just wasn't his thing! Besides, he was too young to die.

Kurita shuddered.

"Don't worry, the fucking linebacker will be preoccupied with Eyeshield 23," Hiruma announced casually, popping his sugarless gum, as he carefully polished his AK-47. "So all the tackles will be directed onto him."

A collective sigh of relief escaped the flunkies.

* * *

Sena blinked. He already knew that, but he still didn't relish the thought. He shivered slightly.

"Then let's support him, by creating the path for him," flunky number three piped up. "I'd feel bad otherwise. " The agreeing murmurs didn't placate Sena – not even for a bit!

Sena sighed. The world of football was cruel, and here he was, a centrepiece...

"Oi, fucking shrimp!" Hiruma called him, a fanged smile on his pointy face. "Go buy some videotapes!" Sena nodded. "Yes. " He managed to move, before a hand in his stopped him.

"Sena?" Mamori's voice was unsure. Sena smiled at her. "Don't worry, Mamori, you'll be safe here," he reassured her. "Besides, nobody would dare to go past Kerberos. He eyed the beast intently. "Isn't that right, Kerberos?"

Kerberos stopped in the middle of gobble and ruffed an affirmative. Sena smiled. "See?" he asked. "So stay here and enjoy the match... I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded hesitantly as he reassuringly squeezed her hand.

Then, Sena was off, with his duffel bag on his shoulder.

* * *

He hid in the nearest rest room, and quickly changed; thanking all the stars he was adept with the pads and such. He had his own protective gear, which he switched – the Deimon's' was quite clumsy and cumbersome, and two sizes too big for him, while his own clutched his body like glove. He quickly snatched on his jersey with number 23, and cleats, along with the helmet with a green-tinted eyeshield.

The gloves – and he was off!

He arrived on the field sweatdropping at the expressions of awe on his team's faces... well except for Hiruma's.

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" Hiruma asked rhetorically. Sena sighed. "Sorry, I was unable to find the field," he bowed awkwardly. "I look forward to playing with you all."

Hiruma's mouth snapped shut. Then he grinned.

Sena tensed.

Hiruma was planning something, and it didn't bode well for him.

"See him?" Hiruma pointed at the tall player with a number 40 on his jersey. "That's Shin Seijuro. Go intimidate him, YA-HA!"

Sena grimaced as he narrowly dodged the kick in his butt.

"He sure has a fetish with butts," He mumbled to himself, when he was out of the earshot of the blonde devil.

* * *

And there, he stood.

Sena had to admit, Shin was very imposing in his white and navy blue jersey.

He sighed. "How troublesome," he muttered out.

Shin twitched.

"Troublesome?" He echoed, steel blue eyes narrowing, as his fingers twitched.

Sena nodded. "Yeah. I'd rather be anywhere else, but what can you do," He shrugged.

Shin just didn't get it. "So why are you playing here?" he asked slowly.

Sena sighed. "It's troublesome, but I'm doing it as a favour." His voice was muffled with the yawn.

Hiruma grinned as he saw Shin's eyes narrow a bit. "So you are just a fake?" Shin questioned his voice deathly silent.

"It depends." Sena blinked. He bowed. "Please take care of me." As he straightened, he saw Shin's eyebrow twitch.

"Oh, I will," Shin promised darkly. "Don't worry, I will."

* * *

Sakuraba was petrified with fear. "W – W – What is with Shin?" He asked his voice shaky.

Shin's battle aura was in full swing when he marched back to the Oujou bench, and that usually meant that someone's ribs would be cracked.

Takami sighed. "Seems that this Eyeshield kid said something that ticked him off," He grumbled. "I'm just happy he's benched..."

Sakuraba gulped.

* * *

Hiruma grinned. "Good work, fucking chibi," He muttered to Sena.

Sena sighed. "You are very troublesome, you know that?" He retorted idly.

Hiruma smirked.

* * *

The Knights were unnerved. First, it was Shin's killing intent on that Eyeshield 23 guy, and second, there was this... Eyeshield 23 guy.

Their coach scratched his head. "Hmmmm..." he grumbled. He hadn't seen Shin express so much emotion since... ever, and there's that punk who riles the stoic Oujou linebacker up effortlessly. He sighed. _'Just what had the brat said to rile Shin so...?' _The coach mused, wondering whether the Deimon number 23 was dumb or completely insane.

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the Shinryuuji on the stands.

"The Shinryuuji came to see us... so let's give them a good match!" He announced, receiving the nods from still shaken team.

"GLORY..."

"_KILL – "_

"ON..."

"_THEM – "_

"_**KINGDOM!"**_

"_**YA – HA!"**_

And the match was officially open.

* * *

As Hiruma predicted, Deimon's line was pathetically overwhelmed by Oujou linemen. They didn't get a chance to grab a ball, resulting in the first touchdown to be made by Oujou. The second was, likewise, scored by Oujou.

Hiruma growled. That was_ not_ his intention! If only the damned monkey were playing –

But he had to thank the fucking chibi for almost getting him out of the commission with his elixir of doom.

Besides, what was the fucking chibi _doing?_

He blinked as the Eyeshield once again missed the ball.

A vein in his left temple throbbed.

* * *

They were getting back on the middle of the field, with the fucking chibi lazily ambling after them.

'_That was the Eyeshield?'_ The watchers on the stands whispered, and many outright laughed. Apparently, Sena was doing his utmost to be useless on the field, much like certain Sakuraba Haruto was effortlessly doing.

That was a small consolation... NOT.

* * *

"What the _fuck _are you doing, chibi!" Hiruma snarled at his ace in the hole angrily.

His only answer was a... burp.

* * *

Shin watched the Eyeshield, sweatdropping. Now, he was almost ashamed of his determination to show the impostor what a true football player should be like.

"What do you think, Shin?" The coach asked.

"He's a touch football player," Shin replied promptly. "His run is average, and hampered down by fear."

The coach blinked, as he watched the Deimon's number 23 who was just now being reprimanded by the blonde devil.

* * *

Sakuraba stewed. _Shin this, Shin that..._ it was always about Shin!

He growled to himself inwardly.

He – Sakuraba - was hailed as hero, but he knew – Shinryuuji didn't come here to watch him – they came to assess Shin. Media could be fooled into making Sakuraba the ace of Oujou White Knights, but he _knew._

Shin was the real hero, and he, Sakuraba, was only a pretty, paper-mache impostor.

He gulped down a bitter gulp, as he nervously toyed with his water bottle.

He wanted to be respected and admired, like Shin – but all he got was a horde of fan girls after his pretty face, and he still didn't know just why he was still insisting to play football.

He would always lag behind Shin... always.

He blinked as he stared at the Eyeshield guy who was making a fool out of himself on the field.

Even with Hiruma snarling in his face, the guy only burped and continued as if nothing could faze him.

* * *

It was 23 – 0, Oujou leading, when Sakuraba was finally called into the game.

He missed the first ball.

The second was no better, but they at least kept it.

The third, it was perfect. Takami-senpai threw it right, and he stretched his hands to catch it, but –

A red jersey was in front of him, rising, and he was blinded with sun –

And then, they were on the ground, the blonde receiver moaning with pain, while the eyeshield – wearing person burped once again.

Loudly.

And Sakuraba was delegated on the bench... again. The Eyeshield apologized to him with a bow, but that didn't help, Sakuraba mused sourly.

* * *

Sena sighed. He felt... for the lack of better word... better.

"Note to self – it's not a good idea to eat _THAT_ just before the match," he mumbled to himself.

His stomach agreed wholeheartedly.

With a lighter step, he headed back into formation.

* * *

Hiruma sighed. Then, he blinked. The fucking chibi was...

His lips stretched into a massive grin.

'_This is it.'_

Seeing the fucking chibi nodding, Hiruma was tempted to kick the brat and fire his AK-47 simultaneously.

* * *

Shin blinked. There was the same formation, the same orders, but there was something amiss...

Something, that they overlooked, and he had a feeling that it would, just now, came back to bite them into their ass.

* * *

"SET! HUT! HUT! _HUT!"_

And then, the blonde devil passed the ball to the Eyeshield –

They thought that it would be simple.

How wrong they were.

The Eyeshield guy geared up and then, it was like watching train disaster.

You don't want to look, but you couldn't tear a sight away from the happenings.

Player by player, Eyeshield passed them, running so fast –

Shin stood up abruptly.

"What the –"_the_ coach breathed out, shocked.

This useless guy... how could he be _so fast?_

_

* * *

_

The Deimon exploded with cheers.

First touchdown!

Against_ Oujou,_ no less!

Monta jumped up, loudly _MUKYA -!_ – ing with triumph.

"Did you see that, Mamori-chan?" he asked their manager excitedly.

Mamori smiled. "Yeah. Though, I wonder," She frowned. "Where is Sena-kun? He is missing – "

"Who cares about that?" Monta rudely interrupted her. "This is our first touchdown!"

Mamori frowned, but nodded. She would just have to tell him, when he would return! And with that, she smiled brightly.

* * *

The second touchdown came right after the first, proving that it was no fluke.

The coach's eyes narrowed.

"Shin..." He called out.

Shin tensed, eyes narrowing with anticipation.

"Yes." He returned.

"Get on the field." Coach instructed.

Shin stood up, grabbing his helmet.

"Yes."

* * *

"Oh, so they finally decided to let the fucking linebacker out of his cage," Hiruma cackled gleefully.

On contrary, Kurita was shaking. "Oww, oww owwww..." He moaned, brown eyes filled with tears from phantom pain.

Sena was silent.

* * *

"But – who is Shin?" the cute reporter on the stands asked, clueless. "Surely Sakuraba-kun would be better – " The sports writer shook his head.

"No, you're wrong. Whenever I was talking with the coaches, they always mentioned one person they would do all to get them to play on their team after they finish high school, "He said solemnly.

They eyed the player with blue number 40 on his pristine white jersey entered the field –

"- With the 4.5 on 40-yard dash, and bench press of 152 kilograms – "

The player put on the helmet, closing the straps under the chin with a tiny _CLACK_, steely blue eyes flashing with a determined light –

"- He is number one linebacker in Japan, Shin Seijuro."

The reporter gawped.

* * *

The Deimon's flow of game was sealed. If only they had a receiver...

Shin had single – handedly sealed Sena's run, and the Deimon's running back had a first-hand experience – excuse the pun, just how devastating a _Spear Tackle_ could be.

Sena grimaced. He was no stranger to pain, but _that _was something even _he_ could be respectful towards.

Carefully, he began to speed up, acutely feeling the cramps in his protesting stomach.

He let out a stream of Spanish curses under his breath.

That was _so_ not good.

* * *

Shin stared at the Deimon's runner. Frissons of excitement ran through his spine. This... Eyeshield was worthy...

* * *

Sakuraba was gawping unceremoniously. The kid was a true monster. But in the end, it won't matter...his fate was sealed.

* * *

The Oujou coach stared. "That kid... Just _what_ is he?" He muttered out to himself. He knew how devastating Shin's tackles could be, and by all rights, the Deimon's runner should've been carted off from the field... especially with Shin increasing his strength.

'_And why was Shin pressuring the kid so damned much?'_

_

* * *

_

They had a break before the last quarter to switch the players and strategize. Sena speed off into the cabin, quickly switched his clothes, and headed back to the field.

"Hey!" He greeted the players as if he just came back from his... shopping excursion.

Mamori's face brightened. "Sena!" She exclaimed, jumping up, before she launched on him into a bear hug.

Sena had to muffle a yelp of pain. "_Aof!_ Hello to you too, Mamori," He greeted gently. "What's the status?"

"It's 30 -14, with Oujou leading," Mamori deflated. Sena blinked, as if surprised. "But that's fantastic!" he exclaimed. "Who scored?"

"Takami and Shin for Oujou, and for us, Eyeshield 21," Monta told him, eyeing him enviously.

Sena sighed. "I see. " He rummaged through the duffel bag. "Here are additional videotapes," he offered, as he gave the items to Mamori.

"I hope you will meet Eyeshield, "Mamori told him smiling. "He is small, just like you, and he is so brave!" She squealed out.

Sena sweatdropped. "Uhm, yeah... maybe someday," he offered politely. "By the way, where is he?" He blinked, as he fished his home-made smoothie out of his box.

Kurita blinked. "Ehh? He isn't there?"

"No he isn't," Hiruma grumbled out, eyeing his paper with statistics and figures that were clear only to him.

"Sena!" Someone called him.

Much to their surprise, it was Takami!

* * *

Takami sighed. "Huh... That was unexpected, "He muttered out. "If they had their receiver out, it could be an entirely different story." Their coach agreed, humming thoughtfully. "But he is not," He pointed out. "And I can't imagine Hiruma being so negligent as to disregard the fact."

Sakuraba blinked. "But still... It seems that their receiver is okay," he pointed out slowly. "Why are they holding him back?"

"They are embracing him?" Ootawara asked dumbly, making the team sweatdrop at his idiocy. "No! They are not allowing him to play! "Sakuraba replied, annoyed. "Last I've seen him, at Koigahama – Deimon match, he played, and this is just strange – "

Takami's eyes widened. "Of course, but maybe we'll get some answers soon," He muttered. Then, he called out. "Sena!"

* * *

Shin's head jerked up.

_Kobayakawa was there?_

He sipped his water, wondering absentmindedly, just why was Kobayakawa at the match.

* * *

Sena approached the Oujou lightly. "Takami-san," He greeted.

Takami smiled. "Hello, Sena-kun. What are you doing at the match?" he inquired kindly.

Sena blinked. "Oh? I was drafted as secretary for the Devilbats," he replied easily.

Takami and Sakuraba gawped. "B – But you don't play football!" Sakuraba exclaimed. Sena sighed. "Well, yes..." He admitted. "But secretaries usually don't play, do they?" He asked back, making Takami cough in amusement and Sakuraba blush with mortification.

Coach chuckled. "Yes, that's true," he agreed amiably. The Deimon's secretary was quirky and he liked that. "But – could you tell us why the number 80 isn't playing today?" He asked politely.

"Oh, you mean Monta?" Sena asked. "Um, well, that would be my fault," He admitted sheepishly.

"Your fault? " Takami echoed, surprised. "How so?" He couldn't imagine the slender boy harming even a fly, but –

Sena coughed, blushing. "Well, yeah. He stole my bananas."

"That wasn't right," Shin interjected, making coach gape. "But that wouldn't get him out of the commission for the game." Sena sighed. "Well, no, but he got a severe case of indigestion," he admitted sheepishly.

* * *

Hiruma eyed the chibi suspiciously.

Damn, that wasn't in the plan. He hadn't known that Sena knew the Oujou players, and that even worsened the situation.

How should he – the damn shrimp was too damned sneaky for his own good. Anyone who managed to evade his inquiry attempts half as good as this chibi, was not to be underestimated. Hiruma was simultaneously frustrated and pleased that the damn brat was not afraid of him, but that didn't tell him just how the brat knew the Oujou team.

He huffed, as he continued to polish his beloved gun. Inwardly, he smirked. It was only a matter of time...

* * *

Sena excused himself, and headed back to his team. He was met with questioning eyes. "Sena? How do you know them?" Mamori asked, curious. Sena sighed. "It was a coincidence," He told her. "I had attended the Koigahama-Deimon match, and we began to talk... Well, until Sakuraba was chased away by his fan girls."

Monta blinked. "Huh? You were on that match?" he asked clueless. Sena sweatdropped. "Yeah, I was_." 'And considering that YOU recruited me, it's a wonder you don't remember me...Not that I mind of course.'_ Sena added in his mind

Yelping, as he was kicked in his posterior, Sena glared at the smirking devil. "Hiruma..." He growled. A gun was clocked at him. Sena swallowed a curse. "Go take some photographs on the stands, fucking chibi! _YA-HA!"_ Hiruma cackled gleefully.

Sena snorted. "Yes, your highness." He teased back, dodging a hail of bullets and grabbing his duffle bag. "And Monta... Leave my bananas _alone."_ He finished, making Monta froze guiltily, with one hand in Sena's precious box of snacks. "But if you really want to, you can have one of my smoothies," he offered, a nice little innocent grin on his face.

* * *

Monta paled. "N – No! Thank you, but - "Sena was already away. "... Scary MAX." Monta whispered, his eyes bugged out with fear.

Hiruma blinked, curious. "So you are afraid of an innocent little drink..." He mused, a scary grin on his face.

There was a slurp and lick and a loud _BURP._

The Deimon's team looked down at their feet where Kerberos was contentedly licking his muzzle.

"... A strawberry-mango smoothie, at that?" Hiruma concluded, fangs glinting in the light.

Monta's jaw dropped. "But – But – But!" he floundered. "No fair, MAX!"

He longingly looked at the box.

The bananas were looking more and more appealing by the moment.

The flunkies just dismissed the event as one of the weirdo happenings, courtesy of Hiruma.

* * *

Sena grunted, as he once again get on the gloves. A check later, he was off again, making it just in time for the beginning of the match.

Hiruma nonchalantly popped the balloon. "You got lost on the road of life again?" He asked sarcastically. Hiding his gun somewhere. Sena has suspicion that Hiruma had a Hammer space somewhere behind his back, and that just proved it. '_Mei would be so jealous...'_ He thought, fighting a small smile on his lips.

"How did you know?" Sena cocked his head inquiringly. "I was sure I didn't let you any messages about my... trip." Hiruma grinned a savage grin. "It's all in your head, shrimp. It's all in your head." He looked at the Oujou team. "I'll get either paranoid or dead before this month will be over," Sena muttered to himself, making Hiruma snort.

* * *

Shin was unnerved. The game was in Oujou's advantage, but Eyeshield was becoming faster... bit by bit, no matter how many times Shin had downed him, the next time, the kid was just a little bit faster.

And then, it happened. The crash.

Sakuraba had foolishly gone on the field, just in time to get in Sena's way, who was frantically trying to get away from Shin.

The disaster struck in the shape of Sakuraba being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he was ploughed into the bench with a full force of Sena's run.

Sena tried to halt, but he was too late. Eyes widened, he could only allow, helplessly as the gravity and kinetic force did their job.

Sakuraba howled with pain.

* * *

A minute later, it was found out that Sakuraba had a broken collarbone, and had to be carted off into the hospital.

Sena was shaken. He didn't mean for it to happen!

He sighed, as he listened to the boos and jeering of the crowd.

"Don't worry, kid," The Oujou coach told him gruffly. "It was the boy's damn fault. I told him, again and again, that he should not wear such idiotic sticklers – and did he listen to me?" he grumbled out.

Sena nodded shortly. After he bowed, he returned back to his team.

* * *

Hiruma was pissed and relieved. Pissed because the damned shrimp bowled into the fucking receiver, and relieved, because his damned runner managed to get out unscathed.

* * *

Oujou defence was iron clad, as always. It seemed that the loss of Sakuraba motivated them – well, no, but Shin sure had been on Sena's tail more often than not.

"He's getting even faster," Oujou's coach muttered, incredulous. Sure, Shin still managed to down the kid, but the kid had tried damned hard to make it as hard for the stoic linebacker as possible.

* * *

'_I need to get faster,'_ Sena mused to himself, as he panted slightly.

* * *

Shin's eyes widened, as he pursued number 23 in the red and white jersey.

One moment, he was sure he got him, but the next, the boy vanished in front off him -

* * *

The coach's bottle dropped from his nerveless fingers.

"This is – I can't believe it..." He breathed out in shock.

"The _Speed of Light -!"_

_

* * *

_

Oujou still won, but the players were shaken. The rumours were true.

Deimon had one hell of a runner, who could, apparently, outrace _Shin _of all people, and not only that, he could run 40 yards in 4.2 seconds!

It was unreal.

* * *

Shin stared at the passing scenery sightlessly. This... Eyeshield was miles ahead of him, leaving Shin behind in that light speed pace as they ran. If Deimon had a better starting line – a proper one, and not the people who were unused to playing the sport, they could be a real threat to Oujou – or at least real challenge.

The Oujou was celebrating their win, but Shin didn't join the congratulatory circle of back-slaps. Instead, he headed to the Deimon's side, straight to Eyeshield 23.

* * *

They stared at each other again. Sena sighed. "Thank you for good game, Shin-san." He told the taller teen, wondering just what was he doing there. Shin still stared at him.

"Oujou... will be the one at Christmas Bowl." Shin finally managed to get out. The eyeshield did betray nothing, as it glinted in the sun with a green light on the black, white and red painted helmet. The Eyeshield nodded. "Yes, it will. I look forward to seeing you there."

Shin nodded. "Aa." He turned and went away, to his team.

Brown eyes, concealed behind the opaque eyeshield, watched him through the green plastics solemnly.

Both of the players had a same thought at the time.

'_It's not over yet.'_


	6. Chapter 6

_THE PATH OF GRACE_

_

* * *

_

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Eyeshield 21's characters. I own only the story, the plot and the OOC quirks of the characters, and mayhem they cause.

_**Shout Out: **_New chapter again! Thanks for reviews, and I hope to update soon.

_**Warnings:**_ Not very canon, and there's Shin's perspective on our cute little speed of light.

* * *

_"No one ever drowned in sweat."_

_Anonymous_

_

* * *

_

The buzzing around the new Eyeshield was slowly dwindling down. Well, not so dwindling, as being shadowed – or better, _shaded _- with news of Sakuraba Haruto's recovery, although there was still a great deal of gossiping and speculating just who was the mysterious number 23 of Deimon Devilbats.

The rumours ranged from speculative to downright idiotic. Girls, of course dreamed out a bishounen, who was hiding his face in order to find his One True Love, and boys were speculating whether the running back was a yakuza with face that only his momma could love, or if he was an alien from other planet.

Some said he was super-famous actor, and others insisted that he was a scientifistic experiment that was hiding among the ordinary people, to hide away from his torturers.

But the fact remained, this year, Deimon could be dangerous.

Deimon's first string was as pathetic as it could be, but that could be changed, what with Hiruma's relentless exploiting of television transmission for his own nefarious needs, i.e. recruiting newer and better players. The Devilbats may have lost, but this was not the end of the story. Oh no, it was barely a beginning.

* * *

The White Knights returned to their school oddly humbled. Of course, when the first euphoria passed, they realised they were lucky. _Very_ lucky, in fact.

Their coach was suspiciously quiet.

"Coach?" Takami asked the older man quietly. "Hmm?" The coach grunted, distracted. "What do you... think about Eyeshield?" The Knights' quarterback prompted, looking at the man inquiringly.

Their coach was no slouch, and he definitely was a slave driver, but he was, among other things, very knowledgeable in the football. Oujou may not be always on the top, but they were a reasonably strong team, which could successfully compete with football giants such as Teikoku Alexanders and Shinryuuji Nagas.

The pale gray eyes darkened with contemplation. "He's... very fast. " The coach admitted quietly. "If they had a proper line – hell, if they had_ only_ _one_ good receiver - we would have been in trouble."

Takami's blood chilled at the man's serious proclamation. "You've seen him, Takami," the coach continued quietly. "4.2 in 40 yards. This is the speed of a pro in NFL, and that kid has it. If we didn't have Shin – "

Takami gulped. "Are you _serious?"_ He managed to get out. "He's just a _kid_, and – "Gray eyes looked at him sternly. "The kid may not be a pro, but he's in his own class," the coach grumbled out.

"And that means," Coach snarled out at the rest of the team "More training for all of you!"

Yelps of "Yes, sir!" permeated the air, before the coach began barking out the new schedule, making the team groan with despair.

* * *

For once, Shin was distracted. Oh, don't get him wrong, he still paid attention in his class and all, but the arrival of one Eyeshield 23 changed it all.

In retrospect, he was only curious why was such a fuss around the mysterious new kid who was hiding his identity. He couldn't be _that _good, right?

His first meeting with the said Eyeshield was anything but impressive. The kid's nonchalant attitude had irked Shin something terrible – Shin himself was very dedicated person, and to hear someone say that playing football was troublesome, especially when that player looked like a waif that could be broken in half with one half-hearted _Spear Tackle,_ it really didn't help the matters.

The kid was disrespectful, too, and his accent made Shin's brain _hurt._

_

* * *

_

The first and second quarter, it was almost pathetically easy to catch the kid, and Shin was beginning to really question his motives to crush the kind into the dirt. Simply put, Eyeshield 23 was lazy and he had only an average speed and was it really worth to make fuss over such a sloth –

A scaredy-cat sloth at that, too...

* * *

Until he single-handedly – if accidentally - sent Sakuraba back to the bench and Shin got really troublesome feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like something will go wrong this instant, a feeling of approaching doom, if you will.

* * *

And he was right.

The next few moments, he could only gape dumbly, as the Eyeshield weaved between the white and red – clad people effortlessly and before he even managed to compute what exactly happened –

The Deimon scored touchdown.

* * *

The Deimon's number 23 was not average. Far from it. Whoever managed to be _that _fast was an opponent to be feared.

If they thought the first was a fluke, the second time, they got a dose of a bitter reality.

Shin felt the blood rushing through his veins, as he quickly reined his excitement.

'_Maybe he was the one...?'_

_

* * *

_

And when he was called onto the field, his heart raced at the thought of catching that little bit of green and red light.

He... _caught _him.

Admittedly, his prey was fast, giving him a delightful chase, but –

_Again._ He caught him again.

Not that it wasn't exciting, but –

Eyeshield 23 was becoming _faster._

Shin was equal part of intrigued, excited and afraid.

Until –

* * *

'_The Speed of Light!'_

Shin could never, ever imagine that he would meet someone that was faster than him. While rationally, he knew that it was possible, he also knew than not many, if any of people who attended middle school possessed that kind of speed.

And even then, he was ranked as the fastest of his age group, with no contest.

Being the best was not all that was rumoured to be. While Shin strived – still strived to surpass his limits, some of his inner drive quietly died down with the monotony of not having a challenge.

Well, yes, he had challenge – if you count Ootawara as challenge; Sakuraba was his running partner, but he was just that, and more times than not, Shin had to drag the blonde back to the dorms, because he was too exhausted to keep with Shin's hellish tempo.

Kobayakawa... Sena.

Eyeshield 23.

Kobayakawa was a good running partner, and it unnerved Shin that Sena had so much stamina. In short, Kobayakawa was a monster, and Shin itched to find out just what were the limits of the slender Deimon's secretary.

Eyeshield 23 – now _that_ was a wholly different ball of game. He was fast, and he reminded Shin of Kobayakawa, but Shin couldn't be sure – not without looking and comparing the musculature of the two of them. And it really didn't help that Kobayakawa was wearing such loose clothes!

Inside, he pouted for a moment. It was just a professional curiosity – _yeah, right_ – his brain whispered to him, but Shin stubbornly ignored that... _social_ part of his brain.

But he wouldn't mind seeing Kobayakawa clothed in something else than his formless clothes - !

But back to the Eyeshield 23, the one with the _Speed of Light_ pace that surprised Shin to the extent that he actually stumbled for a moment.

Even if he later managed to seal Eyeshield 23's trump card, Shin had done so with mixed feelings – excitement at finding such a challenge on the field, and regret of shutting it down. It was, he surmised, the same feeling as to breaking something invaluable.

Those short moments, when he lied on that slender shape of red and white and black, he felt ... invincible. Fulfilled. _Whole._

_That_ was what he had trained for, _that_ was what he was chasing after and it was such a heady feeling it made Shin momentarily forgot they were on the field and his only wish in that moment was, that this moment would stretch into infinity.

The next time, he dared to wrap his hand around the youth's waist, when they were going down, the Eyeshield 23 still clutching the ball to his chest.

The next time, he dared to listen to their frantic heartbeats just for a little bit longer, and, he felt the slender waist, packed with steely muscles contract and relax under the red-colored jersey against his arm.

He inhaled a small, short inhale, before exhaling and once again, he drew breath, before releasing the little red bit of light he would be chasing after on the field.

_His _challenge.

_His_ prey.

_**His.**_

_**

* * *

**_

When the match had ended, Shin was almost disappointed.

It wasn't fair.

He wanted to chase that little red bit of light some more, see those powerful legs contract and relax as the Eyeshield would be running, dodging, swerving –

He wanted to see how his Deimon opponent would react, evolve and surpass –

Carefully, he breathed out, making sure that his face was as blank as ever.

Now, for some more Algebra –

* * *

" – don't you think so, Shin?" Someone called him. Shin blinked, still focused on his thought of this... Eyeshield 23. "Shin?"

Ah. Takami called him. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What were you saying?" He asked, his hands still automatically lifting his body into a pull up.

Takami sweatdropped. "Geez, Shin, what's with you? You seem to be more distracted than ever. " Shin blinked. "Was I?" His question was honestly curious, making Takami shaking his head despairingly.

The Knights' quarterback sighed once again. "Never mind, "he grumbled out. "I only asked you if you would come with us to visit Sakuraba tomorrow at 16 PM."

Shin nodded. "It would be acceptable." He grunted as he pulled himself up again, sweat glistening on his skin with his effort.

Takami nodded. "Okay. We'll gather in front of the school, then."

Shin nodded. "Noted." And continued the pull – ups, his eyes intense with the thought about his newfound rival.

Takami eyed Shin inquiringly. Since that match, Shin was more intense as ever. Not that it was a bad thing, they had to be prepared for their next match with Seigaku Sharks, but this kind of intense was new, even for Shin.

"Okay," He sighed. "See you tomorrow."

Shin grunted, but continued the pull ups, even if his arms screamed with the effort.

_CLICK._

The doors were closed, and Shin made ten more repetitions, before he allowed himself to drop on the ground.

Panting, he reached for a towel and a bottle of water, when something red caught his attention, as it fluttered on the ground.

Shin bent down to pick it up.

It was a photo.

A photo of Eyeshield 23, in his jersey just crossing the line for touchdown.

The sun was reflecting off that green, opaque eyeshield, the muscles of white – clad legs were contracting in a powerful movement, and he was clutching the ball in his right hand, with his left one free, and Shin could only barely discern the lips and a part of chin, but –

This was all he needed.

He put the photo on the floor, flipped his body into the handstand and begun to do crunches, steely blue gaze locked firmly on the person on the photo.

Yes, _this_ was worth chasing for.

_He_ was worth chasing after.

And one day –

Salty little droplets of sweat dripped on the photo, sealing the silent promise.

_Yes. One day._

And tomorrow, he would definitely asked Kobayakawa to join him for the run. Maybe he would know more about the Eyeshield?

* * *

Sena sneezed. "Achoo!" He sniffled.

The training in rain sure was invigorating, but now, Sena wondered if his immune system was acting up. He sniffled lightly. "Am I coming down with a cold?" he muttered to himself, puzzled.

He pondered the question for a moment. "Nah, that couldn't be it," He dismissed it – "– Achoo!" He sneezed once again. The slender running back frowned.

"_Somebody is thinking of you,"_ he heard Mai's taunting voice in his head. Mocha – colored eyes blinked, before narrowing in irritation. "Mai, stop teasing me," He grumbled out, pouting. In that moment, he keenly felt a loss of his friends.

Shaking his head, he got rid of some moisture in his hair. Not that it helped much, as he was still looking like a drowned rat.

He had gone to run after completing the ladder exercise, and now, he was heading back home. It was pretty dark already, but it didn't matter as he had called his parents before his little excursion.

The match may have ended with the Deimon's loss, but Sena didn't mind. In fact, he was intrigued with the possibilities. Now he knew why his buchou admired the sport... if only a little. However, that didn't mean he would tell buchou about his... escapades. He wasn't suicidal, thank you very much!

Absentmindedly, he ran, dodging and ducking, with occasional swerve here and there. _'I really didn't expect that I would find such strong persons here,'_ He mused to himself. Well, Hiruma was bit of... wacky, but that could be dealt with. Sena knew that the gun-toting blonde was scarily good strategist, and not only that – he was very, very good at manipulating people. Sena winced a little at this thought. Even he wasn't exempt from the blonde devil's manipulations, although he had an advantage over many people that were Hiruma's dutiful slaves. He was indispensable part of Hiruma's plans for going to Christmas Bowl.

Sena inhaled a rain-scented air. _'Christmas Bowl, huh?'_ He mused, a small smile quirking at his lips as he effortlessly jumped across the wall.

Well, if nothing else, this year would be very interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

_CHAPTER SEVEN_

_

* * *

_

_**Disclaimer:**_ No, I don't own Eyeshield 21. I only own this story and characters' OOC quirks.

**_Warnings:_** Enter the Huh-brothers, Hell tower and utter stupidity - i.e. abuse of the huh - word.

* * *

_I felt like I played in a very rough football game with no hitting above the waist._

__ - Alan Page, former NFL football star

* * *

Then next days on Deimon High were spent in a flurry of activities. Mamori had cleaned the clubhouse until it sparkled, Sena and Monta pinned around the recruitment posters and Kurita was handing out the prospects – correction, Mamori did, as Kurita had zero chances to attract the prospective players– well, except for Komusubi, but that could be counted as a fluke.

Sena sighed. This was so troublesome... he yawned as he sat down near the three brothers – Well, they weren't brothers, but they surely behaved like it.

"Aw, damn." One of them cursed, shaking the Nintendo player. "I was _so clos_e!" He whined. "That fucking seventh level is pissing me off!" He growled out, flopping on his back. "And I _so _wanted to win the damned thing – "

"Huh?" Sena asked, interested. What he didn't expect was the echo:

"Huuh?"

"HUUUH!"

* * *

Sena blinked. He only said 'Huh?', but the other two delinquents continued the Huh – chain effortlessly.

"Who took my 'Huh!" the dark-haired delinquent growled out.

The blonde with a strange cross on his cheek snickered and pointed to Sena.

"You!" The dark- haired teen rounded on Sena, baring his teeth threateningly. "Why did you steal my huh, huh?

"Huuh?" The orange-glasses wearer echoed the huh-

"HUUUH!" With the scarred blonde adding the confirmation, as they leaned threateningly over the small teen.

Sena blinked... Again.

"Well, which game do you have trouble with?"

The question took the three delinquents aback.

"Huh?" The scarred one asked. "Aren't you afraid of us?"

Sena yawned. "Should I be?" His counter question was uttered with such an amount of curious honesty that made the three teens baffled.

"Huuh?"

"HUUH!"

Well, now they were at impasse.

* * *

They watched the slender boy curling into a comfortable looking ball. As it was the lunch, they still had half an hour of time before they were required to go back to classes.

Brown eyes blinked at them lazily.

"Aren't you the secretary for that football club?" The goggles asked him curiously. Sena blinked. "Well, yeah, I am. Wanna join? We could use some good linemen, and you could fit right in." He offered/asked the trio.

"Um, well – "The scarred teen hedged. "We don't know nothing about the sport and – "

He yelped as he was kicked in the shin by the dark-haired one.

"Ow! Why did you do that, huh?" The blonde turned on the culprit, gray colored eyes blazing with anger that matched the anger of the dark haired boy. "Did you even ask us, huuh?" the dark-haired teen bellowed at their unofficial leader.

Sena sighed.

"Are they always like that?" He addressed the goggles wearing teen.

Goggles sighed. "Yeah. Most of the time. So... why do you want to recruit us?"

* * *

Sena eyed the teen. He seemed to be the most reasonable from the three of them. "Because we need good linemen, and those we have now can't block for shit," he said bluntly. "Except for Kurita – you know, the fat one, but he's only one person and the line needs more than one man to hold it. And you three seem strong enough to do the job, and do it good."

Goggles was silent. Dark eyes scrutinized Sena quietly. "And if we don't want to?" He asked seriously. Sena sighed. "You don't need to, if you don't want to. But we – the Deimon Devilbats – want to go for Christmas Bowl and for that, we need team mates that will be with us all the way. Either you are in, or you are out." Sena said seriously. "We don't need wimps that would come and drop out halfway through."

Goggles twitched at the 'wimps' word. "We are not wimps!" He growled out.

"So you aren't." Sena agreed. "So, which game did he play?"

Goggles' mouth twitched in a minute smirk. "Need for Speed 4." Sena gaped. "Really?" His excited outburst got the attention of two brawlers. "This is one of my favourites!"

"Huh?"

"Huuh?"

"HUUH?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, the dark – haired teen – Kuroki – was ecstatic, the Goggles – Toganou - was smirking, and Kazuki– the scarred one - was intrigued.

It was a start of a beautiful friendship...

... Or not.

* * *

Sena gaped at the three sulking teens. "What on earth?" He asked. "You didn't tell me you would join the race!"

"So we didn't." Kazuki sulked, shuffling slightly. Sena sighed. "Hiruma?"

This one world made the trio shudder and growl. "You too?" Kuroki asked with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Sena nodded, sighing. "Welcome to Hell."

These three foreboding words didn't make the trio any happier than before.

* * *

"GO, GO, _GO!"_

The bellowing made them jumpstart into the race, with a healthy dose of shivers running down their spines from the devilish cackles of the Hell Commander that was waiting the top of the tower for the unfortunate souls to gobble them up and spit them out...in a metaphorical sense... Or not. With Hiruma, a man never knew.

Sena groaned. Hiruma was mad; there was no doubt about that. The Hell Tower was a nightmare! Sena was used to the extreme things –but he feared for his classmates and other poor devils that were forced to participate in that excuse of trials for entering the Deimon Devilbat football team.

They had to... what? Run to the top of the tower, with ice – and oh _no,_ that was not enough. They had to carry the ice cubes through the heat, and not only that, there were heaters and Kerberos and it was impossible to get to the tower, what with Hiruma's... decimation tactics.

Sena was sure that the victims – er, participants would have nightmares for a long time after the thing would be done and gone over with.

Hot day was normal. Tryouts... were okay. But not Hiruma's type of tryouts!

He was in his football gear, eyeshield included. As Hiruma promised, not even the famous Eyeshield could escape the tryouts.

* * *

"Um... Eyeshield-san?" A hesitant voice made Sena turn around.

Sena blinked at the teen.

'_Is he balding already...?' _ He mused silently.

"Yeah?" He asked back, letting his American accent come on the forefront. He watched the baldy wince.

"I – I am Yukimitsu. Could you give me some sort of advice?" Sena's eyes widened at the baldy's – Yukimitsu's flawless English. "Your English is perfect," He blurted out, making Yukimitsu blush. "Um, well, thanks – but could you give me some advice on... That?" Yukimitsu cautiously looked at the tower.

Sena looked the teen over. Yukimitsu was thin as a rail, has no muscles to speak over, and overall, he looked like a typical little nerd. But the first impressions could be wrong, so Sena was willing to give it a try.

"Don't give up. " Sena advised. "No matter what, don't give up." He tapped his helmet. "Ninety percent of battle is going in there... only ten percents are waged in reality. If you believe that you can, and if you strive for it, then there's no reason for you to fail. I'll see you on the top of the tower."

He nodded at the stupefied Yukimitsu. "Let's go."

* * *

It was hot. It was hard. It was sweaty. Sena grunted as he dodged a stray fireball, not even daring to think of the bizarre event. He was just happy it didn't tax him out... much. Still, it reminded him – how bizarre – of the Hell Run he had been dared to do, when he was still in States. He looked at his bunch of ice cubes. They were in a relatively good state, although they floated in a slush of –

He sighed. "Troublesome."

Quickly calculating the way, he waited for an opportune moment, and sprang forward.

Ten minutes later, he was on the top of the tower, panting like crazy.

"Yay, you did it!" He heard, before he was smothered with Kurita's bulk.

Sena gasped. "_Air, _Kurita-sempai!"

He clawed feebly as to rescue himself from the vice-like grip of the teary linebacker.

"Let him go, fucking fatty," Hiruma's voice prompted Kurita to yelp and let the slender teen ho as if he were a hot chestnut.

Sena gasped the air in his starved lungs, as he nodded to Hiruma gratefully.

* * *

Monta did it. And to Sena's pleasant surprise, the Huh – Brothers, as Hiruma called them, managed to get in, too. Kurita's little disciple, Komusubi, was also in. Many of the previously excited people gave up... but there was one who strode forward...

Or better, dragged himself forward...

"He won't manage in time..." Hiruma muttered to himself. The team watched Yukimitsu's struggles quietly. Sena shook his head. "No, you're wrong. Yukimitsu will be here.

"Um... How do you know that, Eyeshield-san?" Mamori questioned Sena shyly.

Sena snorted. "It's all in your head." He replied enigmatically. "Besides, I promised him to meet him here... and Yukimitsu isn't the sort of person to forsake a promise." He uttered out, still in his Eyeshield persona.

"Five seconds..." Hiruma muttered out, pale jade eyes narrowing.

"Four..."

A shuffle in front of the door.

"Three."

A click. A huff.

"Two..."

The doors creaked slightly, as the singed, sweaty and exhausted form of Yukimitsu stumbled in.

"One... Do you have an ice cube?" Hiruma asked, as he cocked his gun to the drained teen.

Yukimitsu's trembling arm lifted a small bag and emptied it into the basin.

A small clink echoed in the silent tower.

"Well, well well... Would you look at that, fucking baldy actually managed it." A terrifying smile showed itself on the blonde's face.

The Eyeshield kneeled down to the exhausted Yukimitsu. "Congratulations, Yukimitsu. You did it."

And those words were the last ones Yukimitsu heard, before he stumbled into a blissful darkness.

* * *

Now, the Devilbats were gathered. Sena looked at the triumphant faces. Hiruma had the widest smile to date – well, more like a smirk, but oh well...Mamori was smiling happily; disregarding Monta's puppy stares entirely. The Huh – brothers were glaring at the unrepentant Komusubi, and Kurita was bawling the tears of happiness. Yukimitsu was awake again, and smiling widely at his accomplishment.

"So... the tryouts are finished." Hiruma spoke out, his bloodthirsty smirk on his face unnerving the new Devilbats.

"The training will be every day, no exceptions, at 6 AM in the morning, and 14 PM. Whoever dares to ditch it would have to suffer through the punishment game.

The listeners shuddered at the words of punishment game. "We will go to the Christmas Bowl, and we will kill them! YA-HA!" Hiruma cackled merrily.

Sena smiled as his thoughts turned to certain Oujou linebacker.

Now, they would definitely meet at the Christmas Bowl!

* * *

The next day, the newly christened first string of the Deimon Devilbats dragged themselves to the school slowly and painfully – with the exception of their devil of a captain, Kurita, Mamori and their secretary, Sena.

"Owww..." Kuroki moaned painfully. It was a bitch to get up in the morning, and just the thought of training in such condition made him shiver with fear in the anticipation of agony.

"Fuck... I feel as someone took a train and trampled it over my balls..." Toganou winced as he moved gingerly – but no matter how cautious he was, there was a stab in his lower regions, as if someone constantly touched him with a white-hot poker.

"Why the hell did we do it again?" Kazuki muttered out, his teeth clenched to the point of cracking. His two companions eyed him scathingly. "Because someone was dumb enough to let the devil get blackmail on us!" Toganou hissed out.

"It was your fault too!" Kazuki retorted childishly.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

"Was too, times infinity. Ha, take that!" Kazuki punched the sky victoriously, only to yowl and cringe at the white-hot pain strangling his muscles.

Toganou laughed like hynena, with an occasional whimper of pain,

"Stop laughing!" Kazuki snarked out, his cheeks pink with mortification.

"Will not – a-hehe...ow!" Toganou winced again.

"Hey, guys!" The Huh-trio looked at the approaching Sena.

"Hey," Kuroki greeted the teen amiably. "So where were you yesterday at the tryouts?" Sena blinked. "I had to go to buy some equipment for the club." Brown eyes widened. "Holy shit, did you guys go through hell and back?"

"Yeah." Kazuki grunted out. "That damned demon..." He winced at the pain.

Sena sighed. "Yeah, the tryouts were a little over the top," he agreed dryly. "But you guys survived."

"Se-na... Have a mercy on us!" Toganou whined out, pouting. "Besides, if you were there, you would look like us, too!"

"What, like a cat that was simultaneously drowned, burned and starred in the movie as a road kill?" Sena asked dryly._ 'Besides, I was there too,' _Sena thought to himself. '_And in this cruel, cruel world, there are even worse things than Hell Tower.'_

"Fucker." Kazuki spat out, grinning.

Sena sighed. He rummaged in his rucksack. "Here," He gave the surprised Toganou a small jar of a cream. "It stings to high heaven at first, but it helps. Just don't use all of it!"

Toganou could cry with happiness.

"Um... What is in the cream?" Kuroki was more cautious. Sena shrugged. "Herbs... mainly Mei didn't tell me. But it works, and that is all it matters to me. It's for all three of you."

"Hn." Kazuki grunted, embarrassed.

Sena nodded anyway, a small smile on his lips. "The first is always the hardest," he commented, making the trio curious. "No matter what you do, the first time is the hardest hurdle to overcome.

Sena blinked. "Well, let's go!"

And thus it was an official beginning of the Deimon Devilbats.

**_/To be continued/_**


	8. Chapter 8

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

* * *

_**Disclaimer:**_ No, I don't own Eyeshield 21. I only own this story and characters' OOC quirks.

_**Warnings:**_ The preparations for Deimon's first…official match are underway. But not everyone is excited about it…and Sena gets a stalker Oh, and **_use of swear words_** good kiddies are not allowed to speak in polite company.

_**Shout Out:** /Pokes a nose out from the self-imposed summer hibernation state/_ Oya, y'all. Because someone was kind enough to poke and prod me about not updating recently_ - _you know who you are_ /clears throat/_, I went and dusted off this shiny lil' bit of a story. Yes, I am writing. Because I have so many stories, this one was on a hiatus, and would be longer, if someone hadn't been persistent enough to drag me out, kicking and screamin'. As for the next update, it won't be for a time, because I have work and other stories to do, but somewhere in autumn, you shall expect a new chapter. Meaning, this story is alive still, and not a zombie. Enjoy. _/Snuggles back in hidey-hole/_

_**Dictionary:**_ Okay, there's a lil' dictionary of foreign – ahem, swear words used. Tell me if they are translated right, because I don't know a whit of Spanish.

_**Hijo de puta**_ - Son of a bitch

_**Estupido culo**_ – Stupid ass

* * *

_All it takes is all you got.  
_-Marc Davis

* * *

The days passed slowly after that. It was a haze of training, dull scholastic obligations – homework, tests, exams and so on - sleeping, and then repeat the cycle.

For Sena, that meant he had a moment of peace – no one to chase him intensely – at least not outside the training. He spent his days between school, the manager duties for Devilbats, being the Eyeshield 23 – they still didn't find out that the kind manager was also the speed daredevil on the field, much to his relief. Although, he had a hunch that _Shin_ of all people was onto him.

He sighed. Besides, he had Mamori to protect – the girl was still jittery in the crowds of males, so he was more often than not by her side – when he didn't have classes – or he bribed Cerberus to tail her.

The bribe was simple. In that instance, Cerberus was one evil, sadistic little furball that lived for making the lives of two-legs as miserable as it could, and if it got a juicy red steak or two on the top of it, even better.

It was a funny sight, of course. When the boys were advancing on the slightly nervous Manager of Devilbats, intent on asking the pretty girl for favour or just plain asking her out, a deep snarling sounded behind them.

That usually stopped the slobbering guys... and if that didn't help, the furball jumped in Mamori's lap.

Message was clear.

'_Mess with her and I will mess with you.'_

Of course, Hiruma was still wondering just why was the hellhound protective of the girl and he had a hunch of who could have managed to bribe the beast, but he let it go. Mamori, despite her motherly tendencies, was a good Manager, and one of the few that opposed to him if he ever got too far in his harebrained schemes... not that it helped, but it was more entertaining to have at least _some_ resistance than none.

* * *

Sena was chatting with Miura. The second year was complaining about her English teacher – apparently the old bitch didn't have any mercy when it came to the workload of her students. Deimon may have been termed as a school for slackers, due to the impossibly easy entrance test – easy, meaning that if you wanted in that school, you were accepted, no questions asked. You just had to show yourself at the entrance exams first and get through them.

Due to his sadistic friends, Sena didn't have any troubles with entrance exam – he could have entered Oujou, if he wished to, but in his little game of eeny-meeny-miney-moo as he was deciding to which school to go, Deimon came out first, so he applied to Deimon. Simple as that.

" – and the old cow had a nerve to – " Miura's rant was interrupted by the speakers' inhuman screech.

Sena cringed as dread chilled his back_. 'Oh, no, this is not good..._' His gut feeling was not wrong often, and right now, he had a premonition that his peaceful days were waving him bye-bye the express way.

"What - ?" Miura managed to speak, before the speakers boomed out with the demonic voice the students of Deimon High come to dread and hate.

"_**YA – HA**_**!** Explosive game newsflash! We will be having a game this Saturday on the field - " Sena furrowed his eyebrows. "Why didn't he tell _me _that first?" He mumbled out, annoyed.

" - our enemy is the Zokugaku Chameleons! We've bet five million yen on the game!"

This time, Sena almost got a heart attack. _"FIVE MILLION YEN!"_ Miura screeched out, her gray eyes wide with surprise. Well, at least she didn't have any trouble with expressing her feelings.

But Hiruma wasn't finished yet.

"All those who got their asses kicked by Zokugaku, Deimon Devilbats will fuck them up good for you! Of course, the evil hero who uses his _Killer Tackle,_ Eyeshield 23 will be playing as well! " Sena's eyes narrowed. _ "Hijo de puta! " _He hissed under his breath, incensed. "He has no right - !" Miura blinked at her companion, confused. Did Sena just spoke Spanish?

Hiruma, however, cheerfully dug his own grave even deeper.

"Free entrance! You have no balls if you don't come and watch! _**YA – HA!"**_

The listeners were still shaken from the sudden proclamation, but the silence was rapidly diminished as the mutters and chatters began anew again. Oh the resilience of those oppressed by Hiruma's rule...

Sena sighed as he calmed down. "I should've known it," He muttered, defeated. Miura blinked. "Knew what, Sena – kun?" The first year sighed. "This..." He motioned to the now mute speakers – "Is just typical of our resident demonic idiot," He grumbled out, peeved. Miura flinched. _"Shhhh!" _She shushed him forcefully. "Do you want him to hurt you!" She whispered to him, gray eyes dark with worry.

Sena waved Miura's worries away, a tired expression on his face. "Don't worry about me, Miu-nee," He murmured with a dull voice. "I am the secretary of Deimon Devilbats, so he can't exactly afford to dispose of me..." _ 'That, and I'm Eyeshield 23,' _He added in his thoughts.

Miura blinked. "You're the secretary for that – that – " Her words failed her as she flailed with her arms as to express her... thoughts on that matter. Sena shook his head amused. "Yeah." He confirmed her worries, making her pale in process.

"My condolences," Miura finally managed to utter her dryly, making Sena bark out with laughter at her... regards. "It isn't so bad, Miu-nee. Really. Mainly, I take care of players, watching the opponents' strategy plays and so on." _'If only that were true,' _Sena thought to himself sourly. But as he was sworn not to peep a word out about him being Hiruma's ace card, he couldn't tell her that juicy tidbit of information.

"Well, okay... if you say so," Miura finally agreed. "But... She hesitated. "I heard that Habashira, the Zokugaku captain carries large butterfly knife with him every day..." She whispered, biting her lip in worry.

Sena blinked. "That's it?" He asked, incredulous. He snorted at her annoyed expression. "Miu-nee, American football prohibits the use of... _knives _in the game. Besides..." he paused, as he smiled at her, making her blush.

"...Here we have someone who carries _firearms_ every day."

Miura blinked. "We have?" She parroted stupidly. Then, it hit her. "Oh... _OH!"_ She squeaked out, as she blushed, her cheeks as red as her hair.

Sena chuckled at his mortified friend. It was kind of cute of her not to associate Hiruma with firearms right away, but that was Miura for you. Bright, bubbly, bitchy if needed be, and totally oblivious in a sense. But well, he couldn't fault her for not connecting the dots at once. It seemed that Hiruma became the boogie man of some sort and now, when he was working on Deimon Devilbats, he seemed to leave his other prey in peace. Out of sight out of mind, and all that...

He sighed as he looked at his wrist watch. "Sorry but it seems that I have to go now... I have Biology next . "He muttered out apologetically. Miura smiled. "It's okay, I too have classes right now. But..." She paused, uncertain. "About our run..."

Sena smiled at her kindly. "It's still on, "he reassured her. "We'll meet at our usual place?"

Miura nodded. She blinked as she notice the time. "Oh no!" She yelped out. "Sena, gotta run now, see ya later!"

And the next moment, Sena was watching her running away.

He sighed. Well, he too will have to hasten, if he wanted to come before the bell ring, anyway.

* * *

"Well...It seems we can no longer afford to lose." Juumonji grunted as he plopped himself into the seat. Quirking an eyebrow, Sena looked at the blonde teen. "Apparently," He agreed dryly. "So, excited about your debut?"

Kuroki snorted. "Bitchin'." He snarked. "Besides, it's about time someone kicked those fuckers where the sun doesn't shine." He sneered, dark eyes flashing dangerously as his left hand clenched into a fist. Both Juumonji and Toganou became grim. Sena just blinked_. 'Huh. So there's a story behind that...'_ Sena thought fleetingly as he reached into his bag after biology book.

"Hey, Sena... About those five million yen..." Toganou began haltingly. "It was a joke, wasn't it?" Brown eyes behind orange goggles looked at the smaller teen anxiously as he ruffled his spiky bleached brown hair. Sena turned to look at Toganou disbelievingly. "Do you really believe that Hiruma would make empty threats?" He asked flatly, making the trio wince in response at some... flashback. Sena would bet five million yen – excuse the pun – that it had something to do with the devil of their captain. But then again, what didn't?

"Point," Toganou admitted gruffly as he sat on the chair heavily. "So... We really have to win, huh?"

Sena was interrupted from answering as the teacher came into the room.

Not that he needed to answer...

...because either way, they were screwed.

He sighed despondently as he listened to the roll-call.

This was bound to be a disaster, one way or another.

* * *

"You. Me. Track. Now." Sena blinked stupidly at the snarled out demand his... eternal rival. "Kazuhiko-san, if you are trying to ask me out, I have to respectfully decline." He told the fuming second-year passively. The ponytail made a strangled sound. " Not that!" He barked out, his cheeks flushed with mortification, making a pair of girls moan with disappointment. "The track! Match!" He grabbed Sena's shoulder in an attempt to drag him off, green eyes glinting with fury at his prey's lackasidal nature.

It just wasn't Sena's day. Japanese Literature was a murder –that was one of the classes Sena was trying hard not to flunk – after such a long time having been spent in Land of Dreams – meaning good old US of A, Sena had gotten used to Western style of writing, and even if he read kanji, he didn't relish for having an headache for remembering the little devils again. It was funny in a sense. Give him any other language that was written with Latin letters in some shape and form, and he had no problems. Romaji was okay, because it was based on Latin letters, but his head _hurt_ from remembering kanji, hiragana and katakana. His only grace was, that he remembered the material, even if his knowledge of written signs was rather dismal at times.

Secondly, their Biology teacher announced they had a mock test tomorrow, meaning he would have to revise his notes and repeat those darned words for cell cycle - and given that biology wasn't his favourite subject to learn, he was reluctant having to learn the thing again.

Thirdly, Hiruma's little... announcement was bound to cause a havoc in his usually orderly daily routine. No doubt Hiruma would like to have a crash course for the team of greenhorns that called themselves Deimon Devilbats – meaning, Sena would be needed as a Manager and a player, and having to conceal his identity from Mamori was becoming annoying , but that monkey was even bigger nuisance in that aspect. Not that Sena had to fear him, but, watching the monkey's pathetic attempts at wooing Mamori was...troublesome. Mamori was better now, but still a little bit jittery on the prospect of conversing with male half of human species alone, and being in a testerostene filled club like Devilbats was taxing on her. Cerberus wasn't here every time, as Hiruma used the hellhound for his nefarious purposes for training the new victims...i.e. players, along with Sena, and when they were allowed a break, Sena had to assume his manager identity, leaving Mamori alone for a time, thus letting Monta time to latch on the girl in some fashion.

Sena wasn't amused. Leona wouldn't have been, either. The Latino girl was tanned, tall and a little bit on a skinny side, but with respectfully big bust. Her long curly hair was almost always dyed some kind of a colour – last he had seen her, she was trying violet. Her eyes were pale brown, bordering on amber when she was pissed. And of course, she was the one responsible for inadvertedly teaching Sena curses... along with respect for women. It was hard not to get that lesson into the skull, seeing that she was quite of a street fighter if occasion demanded of it.

Meaning, the girl had an unhealthily big dose of bloodlust, which she curbed via kicking the poor, unsuspecting males – _yeah right_ – okay, too persistent... admirers or the jerks, who thought that just because she was pretty girl, she should have been honoured to go out with them.

The victims learned quickly that she was not someone to cross, and the adults despaired as they tried curbing her rebellious tendencies – being that her fashion sense, behaviour or habit of cussing. By some twist of a weird luck, Sena somehow piqued the fiery girl's attention and from then on, he was dragged into the world of hurt and cussing.

Meaning, the girl made it her own personal mission to teach Sena fighting, even if it killed him in process.

_Yeeesh_... Talk about being obsessive...

Shaking his head and smiling at the fond memories, Sena blinked as he returned into present. And promptly, his face soured.

"Listen, you _estupido culo,"_ He growled out, brown eyes flashing dangerously. "I am in no mood to deal with you right now. " He dug his feet in the ground, and even if the ponytail - he really should have remembered his name - tried to drag him away, much to the older boy's surprise, Sena didn't budge an inch.

"I've had a shitty day, and I really don't want to be late for our training session, which you are ultimately holding me off from heading to. " He advanced at the rapidly paling self – proclaimed best runner of track club. Sena flashed out a dangerous grin, as his right hand twitched. "So kindly leave me alone, unless you want to piss me off more, and I assure you, that is not a course of action you would want to take."

"B – But!" The ponytail blustered. "I want a – "

" - Rematch?" Sena sighed out, exasperated. " I clearly told you that by rules we agreed upon, I concede the match. Now why are you bugging me about that?"

"Uh..." Kazuhiko blustered. He managed to draw himself up. "Because of you," he spat out angrily, "They are questioning my position as the best runner. So I want a rematch to prove them I am the best for real!"

Sena stared at the huffing teen incredulously. "You know what; I ain't got time for some pissing contest. Hiruma will skin me alive as it is," He deadpanned, as he stepped away from the delusional idiot. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair, idly thinking about going to hairdresser soon.

"Coward." Sena froze in the middle of the turn. Did he hear right, that the idiot called him a _c- word_?

He looked at the taller teen silently.

The tension skyrocketed.

The peanut gallery was silent, in expectation of an awesomely violent response.

"Did you just call me _coward_?" Sena's voice was deathly quiet.

"Yeah, so?" Kazuhiko crossed the arms on his chest defiantly, obviously smug at the fact he finally found something to needle Sena with. "You are a coward, not accepting the rematch."

Sena sighed as he swung the bag on his shoulder. "You call me coward..." He trailed off...

The crowd leaned forward.

"... I call it having good self-preservation instincts." Sena finished, his voice deadpan, as he walked away, leaving behind comically floored people. _"Ja ne."_

* * *

Kazuhiko Ren may be an average teen with dislike of broccoli and math, and severe case of obsession with collecting _Star Wars_ action figures, along with terming himself the future Maraton King.

It all went well, until that little pipsqueak of a kid came to the club, and since then, Ren's life and manliness was being called under question more often than he would like to hear.

Ishimaru-buchou railed at Ren's stupid mistake at almost every training session, and the tension in track club was even worse, what with upcoming competition against Ryokushou. Ren may have be the club ace, but Ryokushou was said to have an excellent batch of runners this year, and really, the burden would be too big for Ren to carry alone.

Not that Ren cared about that. He was a star, a prodigy and the future Marathon King, so what was one little competition such as this?

Nothing.

But... this Kobayakawa brat stung Ren's pride something fierce, and the brunet teen decided, come Hell or high water, he would get this rematch thing and he would win! And then he would force the little uppity snot to apologize –

Ren ducked back into the shadows as Sena emerged from the shop.

Green eyes watched the prey sharply – really, if the looks would kill Sena would be dead ten times over. Well, Sena was happily walking on the sidewalk, before he looked at the clock.

Ren tensed.

_Three. Two. One..._

Sena was off.

And Ren took after him.

**_/To be continued/_**


End file.
